Brimstone Rising
by BraviaryScout
Summary: The Spartan-IV 37th Special Shock Division is responsible for among the most covert operations in the entire UNSC. Eon, one of the teams in this group find that they are the ones being targeted by a cunning, ambitious elite centered on tearing them apart for their sins on Requiem. Even if it means making them pay the ultimate price to ensure their family's safety. Eon Volume 3
1. Prologue

**UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **in orbit over Requiem**

 **February 12, 2558**

The air was thick with a noxious green mist. Visibility was reduced to just a few meters.

The mission was still the utmost importance.

At the top of a large compound, four UNSC Spartans dressed in their MJOLNIR GEN2 armor continued to scan the outskirts for enemy movement. A pelican was en route to extract them and bring them back to a safe zone. The timer counted down to indicate the first sign of their arrival.

"I got movement. West side, half a klick."

Six eyeballs swung to the large opening of the compound where two walkways had ramps leading to the building's utilitarian interior.

"Brace yourselves Eon," A smooth deep voice said over the comms, "We got more incoming."

"Let's do it."

Several figures came out of the mist. They had mottled brownish gray skin and long tentacles growing out the sides of their arms. Many of their other arms ended in a sharp scythelike blade. The growls they made sounded like wet gurgles, followed by ear-piercing eerie screeches.

The first wave of flood combat forms leaped onto the platform and were greeted with a hail of machine gun fire. One of the Spartans stood in the center with a Chaingun turret and he let loose the barrage. The storm of bullets easily cut down the attackers, however more were arriving and some had taken an alternate route to their left.

"They're flanking!"

Two of the Spartans turned their attention from the front and turned left. Immediately a pair of flood jumped to meet them.

Armed with shotguns, the duo blasted them to pieces before one of them turned to assist the other two. The Spartan kept an eye on that ramp to make sure other flood were not using the same path.

"Tighten formation," The lead Spartan ordered, "We've got thirty seconds left."

A shape caught all of their attention.

"Carriers!"

The bulbous flood carrier forms landed on the platform just in front before swelling up to nearly double their original size and violently exploding. One of the Spartans had been too close to a couple and he disappeared in the green gases that blanketed the platform.

Every Spartan had their shields dropped and continued pounding away at the assault. The chaingun turret had run out of ammo so the Spartan originally wielding it had a submachine gun out, spraying bullets to tear down the flood attackers. Many of them let out dying squeals as more ran up to replace their dead brothers.

"Shit," The Spartan leader ran out of ammo himself and drew his knife. Two flood forms converged on him, swiping their tentacles at his exposed armor. Their action sliced through the protection and he slumped over. His vitals cut out a moment later.

At the same time the final two Spartans were ten seconds from extraction and faced with a horde of flood. Infection forms ran ahead of their bipedal counterparts and many of them burst apart from intense fire from the two survivors. However more of the balloon like creatures broke through the quarantine and leaped onto the two humans.

"Damn it!"

"Fuck!"

The two Spartans were forced to the ground as the flood began their infection process.

 **SIMULATION CONCLUDED - DEACTIVATING FLOOD WARGAME SIMULATION**

The four Spartans blinked and looked around. In an instant, the flood and the dank atmosphere had vanished, followed by the deck of the War Games simulations.

"Congratulations Fireteam Eon," A female voice came over the speakers from above, "You broke Fireteam Crimson's record by seven seconds although you still did not make the extract in time."

A chorus of applause came from Spartans of several other fireteams who were playing as the flood in the simulation.

Fireteam Eon gave casual waves in response.

"Welcome to the _Infinity_."

* * *

"And that is the rest of the grand tour of _Infinity_." Spartan Commander Sarah Palmer concluded, standing at the top of the massive S-Deck, a room that had multiple levels of the armor assemblers. It was a hive of activity as lifts, bays and techs worked around the clock to keep the contingent of more than a hundred and fifty Spartans in operation.

The briefing area was U shaped, with a large holotank in the center and surrounding it were other Spartans that were the handlers of the fireteams planetside. Three rows of chairs were situated just behind the display and looked sturdy enough to fit the bulk of the heavy MJOLNIR armor.

"Any questions before I fill you in on your briefing?"

"Two actually." The leader of Fireteam Eon, a Spartan by the name of Lusana stepped forward, "We have our own agenda here. It overrides all parameters you might have for us."

Palmer's face turned to confusion as well as frustration that this was not a variable she didn't control, "What do you mean own agenda? I am in command of every fireteam aboard this ship and its sub-vessels! All Spartan operations go through me and there are no exceptions."

"Every fireteam except us," Lusana replied coolly, his dark features wrinkled with irritation, "I have orders from the 37th to take direct commands from codename: Cardinal to conduct our own string of operations under the joint Navy and ONI guise. Now you can continue to defy it and take it back to HIGHCOM, or you can oblige and we'll be on our way and out of your hair."

It was obvious that Sarah Palmer didn't like being challenged, especially from a Spartan that held the rank of Captain, one that was lower than her Commander. So she stepped forward, silently thanking that her height was equal to that of the men standing before her.

"Do you have any idea who you are talking to Spartan Lusana?"

"Do you?"

"Hey," Another Spartan, one with lighter skin, brown hair and eyes stepped in between the two of them, "This is not the time to settle a squabble like this. Commander, we were informed that our accommodations aboard _Infinity_ were granted by Captain Lasky as soon as we stepped aboard and he has approved for us to conduct our missions from the 37th's command here."

"Fair enough Spartan Pine," Palmer relented, still taking the time to shoot Lusana a glare, "You're going to also need a nickel Spartan."

All except Lusana rolled their eyes.

The term was derived from old currency back in the twenty-first and twenty second century. Most Spartan-IV teams including the 37th Special Shock Division, operated in four man groups, hence the name quarters. Sometimes squads had five members, which the fifth member would be the "nickel" Spartan and six where it was nicknamed "dime" Each type of team had different formations for different tactics. More Spartans were always helpful as the individual's skillsets would broaden their capabilities, but mission parameters sometimes needed fewer personnel.

"I will be making that selection and consider it as a liaison between your little secret Spartan division and myself. We clear?"

"So our new member's a spy?"

"No," Palmer's eyes narrowed at the Spartan Fowler, "The nickel Spartan will not inform me of your operations unless they directly compromise ours. That is the purpose. You may be all full of secrets, but you do as I say as long as you're aboard my ship."

"We understand that," Lusana replied, "Just send them to our quarters when they're ready to be briefed."

"I will do that."

As Eon exited the bridge, Spartan Brett Fowler let out a low whistle.

"She's damn attractive for sure, but I think I was quite offset by her control-freak nature and the fact she's pretty much obsessed with herself."

The fourth Spartan make a scoffing sound, "You know she actually got a job offer with us but turned it down because it didn't sound so lucrative?"

"Where'd you learn that Austal?" Ross Pine asked.

Spartan Marcus Austal shrugged, "Ever ask why Cardinal took the job and who he initially replaced? Besides, I wouldn't want to deal with that shit all day."

* * *

Eon's quarters were similar to most other Spartans. It was a large room that separated into three different ones with a main central area that had a holo-screen, coffee table and desk. The entire bunk area was large enough to fit an entire fireteam Each of the bedrooms had a bathroom with a toilet and sink. There was also a cabinet for toiletries.

Fowler wished the Spartans would get the same treatment as officers. Unlike the rest of the grunts, Captains and higher-ups' personal quarters came with an entire cabin to themselves, nearly unlimited hot showers, extremely comfortable beds and access to _Infinity_ 's premium food options. A lot of space was granted to their quarters too.

That was the problem with the wimpy officers, having the lesser men and women do the dirty work while they sat at their air conditioned office directing everything. Most of them used to be more concerned with promotions than protection.

Nowadays, the war against the genocidal Covenant had ended and a healthy amount of the former enlisted personnel had been given promotions. Some of them made damn good officers too.

Lusana was a Captain, but in essence, they were guests on _Infinity_ , so they were regulated to standard Spartan quarters.

It was quick for the team to set up and make themselves at comfortable. They each brought a large duffel bag that contained their essentials while their hardware, weapons and MJOLNIR suits were shipped onboard separately.

"Gather around Eon," Lusana called from the main room as the rest of the team began to unpack.

Pine, Fowler and Austal finished up and joined their leader.

He had set up a datapad onto the holotank and established a connection back to Cardinal, back at the 37th SSD control in their new headquarters in Alto Valeur, New Corsica.

Cardinal's Enforcer armor minus his helmet came onto the screen a minute later. His features were striking and his jawline was strong. A Spartan-IV in the initial class, he took the job as the leader of the elite secret division of Spartans designed for operations pursuing the most dangerous threats to the UNSC.

The 37th Special Shock Division was maintained by a joint staff of UNSC Navy, Spartan and ONI personnel with each branch having an equal say in what the unit did.

Teams operated both on the frontlines and in areas far into enemy controlled territory. What was unique about the unit was that Spartans had to be in a significant healthy personal relationship with someone that was either outside or stationed elsewhere in the military. Psychologists that were consulted by the officers that made up the concept concluded that while it was contradictory to regulations the UNSC established, fraternization with both their squadmates and partners potentially yielded greater results. It also led to the team taking much fewer risks and the capability to return to base to embark on additional missions.

Since then, the rule was readdressed by the UNSC Security Council and ultimately terminated, although it did incite new research and experimentation on how relationships between teams and others outside their circle were done.

Eon was one of the four fireteams that made up the unit and it was the only one selected to head to Requiem to perform joint operations with the Spartans.

"Eon," Cardinal greeted them, "Good to see you arrived onboard _Infinity_. Make yourselves at home yet?"

"Affirmative. It's definitely an impressive vessel."

"Good. Your first mission is in and I'm sending the data to your terminal now."

On the big tank, a hologram of an elite popped up. He wore the insectoid armor of the zealot that had a conical head and an odd symbol above his helmet.

"You are all familiar with Jul 'Mdama. He's been responsible for gathering a large number of assets from former Covenant warlords and uniting them. This is the most dangerous remnant group the UNSC has dealt with and over the years it's been a considerable match for our forces. Now ONI has a spy within their ranks and on your initial deployment, you are to sabotage his primary motor pool. It's located deep within enemy lines behind a large valley that only a few paths are accessible. Those areas are heavily defended by wraiths and artillery."

"This seems like a job for an armored battalion," Lusana replied.

"For this job, we need a scalpel, not a sword Spartan Lusana. The place has partially been converted into a fast manufacturing plant with local power being drawn to keep the plant functional and its work has caused the Covenant to get new armor rapidly. We need to shut it down. The area is being under the command of Parg Vol and once we eliminate him, we believe the remainder of the Covenant leadership will buckle and potentially lead us to 'Mdama's location. If we get a lead on him, we're going to strike quick and hard to take the bastard out."

Cardinal looked around at his men, "Additional details are going to be on your OB tablets. Any other questions?"

"Yes sir," Lusana said again, "We received a lukewarm welcome aboard and Commander Palmer is likely wanting to keep eyes on us."

Cardinal chuckled, "I suspected that, although I've been in contact with her about the arrangement. She wants all Spartans teams, even you out of her jurisdiction to have a nickel Spartan. It's nothing personal against you guys, but she just wants minimal casualties and knots while you're there for the next two months."

"I have a feeling those feelings are going to just get colder the longer we're here." Fowler added.

"A new Spartan means they have to be trained in 37th procedures and all."

"There's not much of a learning curve. I've already looked into your potential squadmate and it seems from what's available that you'll only have to babysit for a brief time."

"Understood Commander," Eon saluted, "We'll deploy within the hour."

As Cardinal winked off the team was interrupted by a knock on the bunk's door.

Fowler moved to open it.

On the other side was a girl in a Spartan undersuit. She had long flowing dirty blonde hair that fell behind her shoulders, something unusual for women as Spartans. She looked rather young and her eyes displayed an unusual amount of enthusiasm, but her face remained stoic and unsmiling.

"You boys must be Eon," She said in a silky soft voice, before raising her right hand in a sharp salute, "Spartan Blake Bailey at your service. I'm your new nickel."

* * *

 **Hello everyone and welcome to the third Eon installment! Eon is back again and they're off to Requiem! This story will begin as Old Wounds' ending has been written and just needs to be edited and such. Crazy to think that this is the third story as it seems like yesterday it was just a loosely created idea, but it's so far evolved into a successful storyline that I personally enjoy writing.  
**

 **For those of you who are familiar to the series; welcome back and for those new readers; glad you could join us. I cannot thank all of you enough for your support, comments and critiques. You give my writing purpose.**

 **MWIM**


	2. Spartan Ops I

**UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **in orbit over Requiem**

 **February 12, 2558**

"Why the hell does it have to be a freakin woman?!" Fowler complained as they walked down the halls of _Infinity_ to the armor bay. "Maybe this is a damn babysitting job after all."

"Can't be that bad," Austal whispered back. They were just ahead of the other three in walking down the mission area and the former was probably the least pleased to hear that they were getting another Spartan outside the 37th. It made it even worse that she looked like a kid straight out of bootcamp. "Commander Palmer picked her out of the entire contingent stationed here for a reason."

"Says the guy who just got married,"

Austal automatically glanced down at the band seated at his ring finger on his right hand. He was hastily married to the love of his life just a couple days ago before being whisked to Requiem, "Just relax. I'm sure she knows her shit and won't be a liability."

"Whatever."

Being practically best friends, Brett Fowler and Marcus Austal usually confided to one another about their personal opinions. The former was much more vocal and sometimes his words were taken by others as being blunt and harsh. He spoke his mind, not hesitant to challenge someone else if they were contending to be the "dominant" person around. Mostly Lusana's cool level-headedness had stemmed Fowler and his aggressive persona, which would usually end up with him being injured anyway, but not before inflicting a lot of damage on whoever was on the other end. This was especially true whenever the team went to a bar. Fowler was not designated as the guy to pick because it would spin out of control rapidly into a brawl. The team would always count on him though if there was such a fight.

In contrast, Austal was the cooler, easygoing one. He didn't like to talk much on missions, but did partake in conversations and reports when necessary. Ever since Eon had formed, Fowler and Austal had been the bedrock, the source of comic relief in the usual routine of shooting terrorists, Covenant and virtual Spartans on War Games simulations. Their friendship branched out to the other members, but the duo had something very special.

Bailey had introduced herself and was crisply instructed by the black man, who introduced himself as Tony Lusana; Eon Lead to follow them out for their first operation. She knew the rest of them through a brief introduction. Pine was the taller lankier Spartan, Fowler was the mean-looking one and Austal was the shorter guy.

They were all larger than her and she felt even more timid by their icy stares. She had to shrug it off though, Palmer picked her to be on this Spartan spec-ops squad and she was eager to prove that this was not going to be a regrettable decision on her part.

Yet at the same time, being able to do that meant getting along with her coworkers. Her team within the Army had quite a few sexist assholes and she was more than happy to have accepted a Spartan position. Sometimes it took her days just to be able to respect men again.

Eon wasn't quite like her old team, but she felt the same vibe. Bailey silently vowed that if the same incidents happened between her and one of the other Spartans, she wouldn't be as submissive and would get in their faces if need be.

They crossed into the armor bay and began to suit up. Like they had practiced, each Spartan was gestured by the techs to step into the boots and the robotic rings began to slowly apply the remaining armor components. The leg part was quickly fashioned and the ring turned around, clipping the chestplates with the power module with a solid clicking sound.

Finally their helmets came into place, being lowered over their heads and attaching with a seal. The ring unlocked itself and the Spartans were gestured to walk out by the techs.

After a brief aptitude and mobility test by them, they were directed onto one of the platforms and lowered into the mission bay.

Here was an enormous hallway that stood quite tall and bustling with activity. Crewmembers tended to docked pelicans. Warthogs and dollies with their hatches laden with cargo zipped by on a painted road. The large ramps gave way to the hangar platforms raised up to allow exit to space and the giant metal shell of Requiem.

"Here's our mission," Lusana brought up a holotank in the center. The image went to a sangheili clad in golden armor. "This is Parg Vol. He commanded a lot of Covenant back when they attacked Draetheus V. Rumors are circling around that soldiers who were spotted surviving that battle are fighting on Requiem, so it's very possible he's down there up to no good."

As he continued briefing, the other Spartans of the team began gearing up. Helmets were placed on, weapons passed around. Bailey was genuinely surprised when she was handed an MA5D assault rifle. She took it and right afterwards, a pistol was passed her way.

"Thanks," She automatically said.

The other Spartan, PINE gave a nod, but did not reply.

"Parg Vol has a motor pool that is being used to service the bulk of their wraiths on the Covenant's main lines. Our mission is to sabotage the facility, take some pressure off the armor on the main warfront."

"Where is the motor pool?" Fowler asked.

"We don't exactly know. Which is why we need to locate a wraith or phantom attached to the place and we'll place a telemetry probe and tag it back."

"How are we going to do that?" Bailey asked.

Lusana held up the telemetry probe. It looked like a long stick with a fat disc in the center. "We'll fire this onto the hull of our target and it'll feed us intelligence on its whereabouts every half second. Normally these can be done through slipspace systems, but I believe that the Covenant is going to keep every vehicle operational here."

"Let's do it."

* * *

It was a smooth descent onto the rocky surface of Requiem and their Pelicans dropped off an M12 LRV as well as one of the new M274 Mongoose all terrain vehicle.

"Shotgun!"

Half an hour of driving yielded no contacts. Lusana eased his foot off the gas pedal in the lead. Behind him, Fowler stopped the Mongoose.

"Recon drone's got signatures of wraiths just around the bend," He reported, "We're tagging this one and following it to the motor pool."

Winks of acknowledgement lights came from all four members.

"Austal, we're going on foot. Take point and tag that tank. Pine, accompany him."

"I'm on it." He dismounted the passenger seat of the mongoose and quickly scanned the area. "Let's put the rally point over there," They were in a rocky cliffside and he had gestured towards the inside of a V-shaped edge that went into a cliff. There were also big rocks to its back large enough to conceal the vehicles, "Covenant may be using the path for transit, so maybe you guys can lay low there until we're back."

"You've got thirty minutes, by then, we're coming for you."

The rock formations had opened up to give narrow spaces for the Spartans to contort their body. Luckily, they offered a much easier shortcut.

Of course all of Eon were equipped with a constant generation of Active Camouflage over their armor. The module was integrated into their suits to constantly refresh their invisibility by draining from the power source within. So far, the longest a 37th Spartan has remained in active camo was more than twenty minutes. It was prone to dissipating whenever the user moved, fired or took fire themselves, but the members of Eon constantly took advantage of the system, being able to strike quickly, neutralize their targets and then slip out underneath the enemy's nose.

The camo was just another regular part of the Spartans and it always felt good when they felt the whirring sound indicating that their cloaks were once again melting them into the shadows.

The sound of rumbling engines caused Austal to hold up a fist and their HUDs immediately picked up a large contact dead ahead at their twelve. Using his free hand, the younger Spartan held up three fingers in a prong-like signal before squeezing them together to resemble the chassis of a wraith.

The enormous blue shaded tank was currently running, the entire vehicle hovering just above the ground in front. Beside it was a small crew of a single elite and a group of grunts.

All it had to do was turn around and see the two Spartans creeping up on it. One direct hit from the plasma mortar did devastating damage to any UNSC vehicle.

Two suits of MJOLNIR armor stood no chance in a direct assault.

Ross moved forward, telemetry module in hand before carefully planting it onto the rear fin. The adhesive on the bottom easily stuck it to the hull and a moment later, it began to transmit its location onto their head up displays.

"Okay, probe's been planted. We're Oscar mike to the rally point. Expect us there in ten,"

"We hear you Eon Three," Lusana's smooth voice came over, "Good job."

* * *

Three hours later, they were tailing the wraith at a distance when it had stopped. The rocky areas had given way to a grassland terrain that was flat for several miles. The only exception were the tall trees that resembled an African safari trek dotting the horizon and the large shield domes clustered around a cleared area of grass.

The makeshift road had led there as well as off in two separate directions to the northwest and north to potentially other supply stations.

If this was Parg Vol's vehicle camp, it certainly was much more primitive than the Galileo Base.

Their wraith had moved towards one of the domes, which deactivated, allowing it to pass through before raising the shield again. Before it was on once more, Eon immediately gleamed several other wraiths and ghosts in small ports where maintenance equipment was being stored.

"Those shields are barriers to vehicles," Lusana commented, "No way we'd be able to take it on in a frontal assault."

"And unless you've got impressive driving skills to outmaneuver every wraith in there," Fowler checked the ammo belt of the warthog's chaingun, "We don't have enough to take on much."

"We do an infiltration then," Austal suggested, "I can get in there, sabotage the shield and place a marker for an airstrike. If Vol is in there, then he'll be incinerated in seconds,"

Lusana looked over, "You sure you're able to do that?"

Marcus knew that it was more of, can you do it without being seen rather than; are you going to come out alive?

"Easily."

"How do we know you're not going to run into any trouble?" Bailey asked.

He jerked a thumb towards his other teammates, "They know, just follow their lead."

The fact he had said anything bluntly for that matter felt like it stung her skin. She had then just realized it was the first thing Austal had said anything to her at all. Fowler had already acknowledged her presence and he sounded somewhat friendly, but it seemed like it was forced.

It took Austal a few minutes for him to get into position. The Covenant had defended this camp in the middle of nowhere quite well. He saw several plasma cannons mounted on the second floor of the purple structures. The grunt gunners were huddled nearby their emplacements, curled up in their sleeping position.

The act of their own infantry sleeping on the job puzzled him. Despite its well defended fortifications, the taller grass stood nearly seven feet tall, allowing the stealthy Spartan to easily creep through.

"Eon Lead, are we set?"

"Affirmative, Assault Strike drone nine dash one nine is approaching the area with a full payload in two mikes. Place the beacon and then get the hell out of there."

* * *

 **Eon is being Eon again. Once again would like to extend a welcome to all who are jumping aboard on this story. Those of you familiar with what I do...glad you could join me, welcome back :D**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	3. Spartan Ops II

**Shield World Requiem**

 **February 12, 2558**

Marcus Eric Austal was formerly a UNSC Navy Para-Rescue Expeditionary scout. It was a strictly volunteer force that was among the highest risk out of all active combat units.

They weren't Helljumpers, had less armor, less advanced equipment and their training was a whole lot of different. The evolution of Pararescue forces from the early twentieth century, the Navy's own Expeditionary force developed a group of specialized operators who dropped in the middle of hot combat zones to extract important personnel, assets and direct civilians from hot warzones. The selection process was open to anyone who was over the age of eighteen; physically and mentally capable of meeting the standards. Marcus enlisted the first chance he got and being completely new to warfare, the DIs were convinced he was going to be one of the first ones either cut or voluntarily withdrawing from the program.

The attrition rate for a Para-Rescueman was seventy-five percent, fifteen more than for Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. However, there were fewer enlistees.

He didn't know what to expect; in addition to basic training done by the Navy, he was also taking courses in indoctrination, survival, combat exercises, paramedics and even having to learn how to perform an entry through a SOEIV pod. Pararescuemen did occasionally enter battle from all levels, flight, jumps and even pod drops.

In his class, he was training alongside veterans, former Army, Navy, Marines, none of them expected this kid to stick with them for so long.

In the end, it was all worth it for him. The coveted maroon beret, a symbol of the specialists was awarded to him after eighteen months of intensive training. By the time he had graduated at the age of eighteen, he was the fifth youngest member to serve.

The training was now second nature to him, except today he was destroying assets instead of saving them.

Concealed in the blades of grass, Austal didn't see any active patrols save for the grunts sleeping and a few elites patrolling around the hangar where the vehicles were parked.

This facility had to have sort of a "master" shield control, a central terminal where all the shields in the camp would be able to deactivate. Disarm that and Eon could make a heated escape with the marker planted and the drone raining fire down on the bastards, sending them at the feet of their gods.

DI Parsons would be so proud.

The shield swallowed him as he continued his approach, sending back a green light to the rest of the team to let them know he was in.

The hangars were about fifteen feet tall and the dormant chassis of the wraiths were lined up. There were four docks, with one tank in each. On the other side, there were double as many ghosts. In the center were containers of tools.

His HUD flashed and he froze, eyes glued to the single contact headed in his direction. He was fairly sure that he hadn't caused any noticeable disturbances, but it always seemed that even the most oblivious grunt that came his way had some nagging superstition that someone was hiding.

The tiny alien came into view, trotting alongside the ghosts and still headed Austal's way. He slowly slinked to one of the wraith's side, taking care to not move fast enough to give away his position. While the camouflage was excellent and enough to fool most, it did cause a slight distortion and attentive foes could quickly catch on.

After a minute, the grunt turned around and headed back into the entrance of the main base, humming a rather flat tune to itself.

"Austal, you've got company headed your way," Pine said, "I count a few grunts and a couple elites. Think they're readying another patrol."

"Roger that." He took out one of the target designators and slapped it on the side of the wall. At the same time, a low rumble thundered from his left as the Covenant had entered and started powering up a wraith. Two of the grunts had gotten into ghosts and the small convoy headed out.

"Spartan Austal, I read your target, ready to fire upon your command."

"Understood sir. Need to lower these shields first."

The operator came back on the channel, "I see a central hub just adjacent to your position."

"I'll check it out."

"Austal, you need to hurry," Lusana said, "We're on a tight schedule here and can't afford any more vehicles coming out of that motor pool."

"I understand sir,"

He eased his MA5D rifle into his hands, clicking off the safety and setting its fire mode to automatic. A suppressor was mounted on the barrel and its recon sight, a holographic reflex optic was smart-linked to his HUD. The same was equipped on his second weapon; an Acheron A9S.

He waited until the patrol was out of sight before slipping out of cover. Still in camo, he cautiously moved forward, scanning the rear entrance in case any stragglers decided to come back.

Marcus stacked on the side and then entered in a swift motion with his weapon drawn. The area was still clear, branching out to his right and a ramp that led up into another room, that was his destination.

The inside was rather small with a U-shaped array of holo-displays and an even larger tank for feed outside the base. The only two occupants were a pair of sleek armored storm sangheili.

He approached from behind as the two were chatting to one another in their guttural language. They were so absorbed in their conversation, his presence wasn't even acknowledged.

Raising his assault rifle, he placed a neat burst straight into the skull of the first one. The body jerked before going limp onto the floor.

The second elite turned around in complete confusion. His hand was reaching for the rifle on his back when Austal fired again, deactivating his camouflage. This one took several more of the armor-piercing bullets to break and the armor's personal energy shield was overloaded.

The elite swung with the stock of the storm rifle, the attack merely brushing off Austal's shields. He smashed his own weapon into the alien's stomach and did it again as he doubled over. The second blow was just enough force to cave in part of the helmet, which had pierced the storm's brain.

He turned from the kills and raised his hand, his translation software easily bridging the language barrier between the two species. The controls were on the left, so he grabbed one of the bright symbols marked as shields and closed his fist, bringing it down as far as possible.

"That did it," The drone operator confirmed, "Shields down."

"I'm extracting," Austal replied, "Fire in thirty."

He was halfway out the door when a flurry of plasma bolts flew his way. They sizzled past, scorching the metal walls.

A pair of elites and a few grunts had found him and didn't hesitate to figure out what was going on, they just fired.

"Shit!" Austal vaulted over one of the sides and took cover, "My position's been compromised!"

"Get on it boys!" Lusana barked over the comms, "Our man's in trouble there!"

Marcus waited for a heartbeat before he rose from his position, targeting the grunts. The rifle kicked viciously in his hands as it spewed a steady stream of brass into the tiny aliens. The elites were returning fire, causing some of his shields to flicker. The smaller aliens squealed in terror and ran around the legs of their larger superiors. One of them snarled and swatted aside one of the panicking grunts, sprinting closer.

Austal fluidly reloaded his weapon, before turning the sights on the approaching elite. Another long stream of battering bullets cut down his shield and the remainder of the clip was emptied into center mass. His attacker went down in a shower of purple blood.

"On my way out!"

Both Lusana and Pine held onto the warthog as it plowed through the tall plains. The shields had been lowered and their last contact with Austal was when he was still inside. If he didn't get out within twenty seconds, he was going to be vaporized along with the rest of the covies.

Lusana had no intention on writing a letter to his newlywed wife, who had no idea she could be widowed in less than a minute.

A pair of ghosts manned by two elites had come out of the hangar area and immediately spotted the hog. They peeled off their patrol course and sped up to intercept.

Ross pivoted the M41 LAAG and squeezed the trigger. Like rapid streaming thunderbolts, a flurry of armor piercing rounds began striking their hills, causing metal to screech in protest. Concentrating his fire on one of them as Lusana threw the car into a turn to avoid incoming fire, Pine kept the sight of the chaingun battery right at the center.

Four of the kinetic rounds hit the cylinder reactor dead center, causing the ghost to combust.

"Good shot," Lusana turned to face the other one. Pine followed his lead, immediately tracking the second one.

This one was definitely not wanting to fall for the same trick as his partner and he was likely calling for help. The warthog shot over the grass, barreling into the ghost's side with Pine jamming his finger down on the guns. The rounds flew all around the purple vehicle before Lusana smashed his quarry up against the side of one of the shield generators.

"Eon Lead!" Bailey's girlish voice was rife with concern, "Back up now!"

The urgency in her voice negated any of the men's concerns. Lusana thrust the vehicle backwards and it lurched out with the elite inside the ghost still dazed, but alive.

Both Spartans felt it before they saw it. The wraith and its two ghost escorts had returned and the driver immediately launched a mortar headed right for them.

Having moved back in time, they saw the mortar arc right above their heads, less than five feet before it curved downward, impacting the ghost dead center. Both the elite and his ride vanished from sight when their visors had adjusted to let them see again.

Before the wraith could launch another mortar, Pine had already rotated the chaingun around, blasting the bigger vehicle with hot brass. As if it was laughing at their attempt, the wraith had stood still, enduring their assault. The turret gunner seated just behind the driver had taken notice and showered the hog with plasma fire.

Lusana threw the hog into full acceleration, heading straight for the wraith and ignoring the gunner as he tried to get a bead on the attacking vehicle. Pine once again shot at the hatch protecting the driver, but the thick armor continued to hold its own, despite the vicious beating it was taking.

The timer read ten more seconds.

"Austal, you need to get out of the facility NOW!"

"I'm out!" His tag popped up a half second later and he sprinted out towards where the two of them were battling. "Keep it busy."

"Trying our best." Lusana grumbled, "Fowler, how's it looking?"

"I've lost sight of Bailey, but you're all in the clear."

"Bailey? What is your position?"

"Give me a second and you'll know."

"Negative," Tony snapped, "Move to assist Austal and get his pursuers off his back."

"That's what I'm doing!"

The wraith had noticed the Spartan creeping from the side and pivoted to give its gunner a good shot. As it did, Austal circled it, causing his target to circle as well. What he didn't expect was for him to suddenly plant a foot on the tank and change direction. Flipping over the top like an acrobat, he latched onto the wraith's rear, facing the exposed engine port.

Marcus pulled a frag grenade from his belt and jammed it inside, leaping off. It detonated inside, with a following blast muffled by the walls. The wraith's repulsor drive stopped and it dropped a foot to the ground, both the driver canopy and mortar both exploding.

Just to his left, a maroon-armored elite wearing an sleek insectoid armor had emerged from active camouflage and upon seeing the Spartan, he activated his energy sword.

Austal fired his rifle, which the zealot walked through without stopping or its shields breaking. In one clean swipe, the blade bisected his weapon in two.

He automatically switched to his sidearm and fired three shots before the zealot struck again, the sword coming dangerously close to his stomach.

Seeing the sangheili's burning yellow eyes through the diamond helmet, Marcus wiggled an arm down to his back. When he pulled it out, he blindly struck at the elite with one of his sting knives.

Laced with a carbon nanotube, the Sting knife was another one of his signature weapons. Inside, a power cell linked to his MJOLNIR armor heated the blade hot enough to carve and cauterize wounds on a target. Not only was it sharp. But they were also adept at stabbing, cutting and burning the foe if need be. It was also balanced with throwing; a skill he had honed for years.

The tip had sliced through the sangheili's neck, causing purple blood to leak from the breach. It stumbled back and snarled.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another one of the ghosts headed his way, but it was the figure on top who caught his attention.

Bailey?

She jumped on the back of the attack bike and fired her magnum at the elite driver, planting herself in the seat once he was dead. The front was on fire and a warning alarm for an imminent destruction was blaring.

The elite turned to see her jump on top of the vehicle and bail right out, rolling to catch herself as she fell. What he didn't know was that she had slipped a live frag grenade inside, stuck to the controls as it boosted straight towards him.

Then all at once, missiles fired from the drone rained down from above on the Covenant camp, obliterating nearly everything.

When the airstrike was over, Austal surveyed the wreckage, being very surprised that the zealot had stayed intact from the blast. He had no idea if it was still alive, but it wasn't his problem right now. The ground still felt like it was shaking from the danger close airstrike and the Spartans shook their heads and made an effort to clear the ringing noise from their helmets.

Bailey jogged over to Austal, "You okay?"

Rather than express his gratitude for being alive, he put his weapons away and grabbed her shoulders with such force she couldn't help but wince, "What the fuck was that?! You could have gotten yourself killed doing that crazy stunt!"

"Spartan!" Lusana warned.

"I-"

Austal ignored him, "I had everything under control! That elite was mine!"

"SPARTAN AUSTAL!" Eon Lead bellowed, much more sternly this time, "Stand down Spartan Austal. We don't need two Fowlers on something like this."

Eon Four looked over as the rest of the group gathered together, "She unnecessarily risked herself to help me in a situation I had complete control of. That's not what I need having my back."

"I knew exactly what I was doing." Bailey placed her hands on her hips, "You don't have to thank me for saving your life Marcus."

"Don't you dare do that shit again,"

"Spartan Austal, stand down. I'm not going to order it again." Lusana came in between the two, "If the two of you are going to continue to squabble, I will assign you both an evaluation on your teamworking skills with one another complimented by wargame exercises with Roland." That shut him up, but Blake felt Eon Four glaring at her through his visor.

"Tyrant, this is Eon Lead."

"Tyrant here, what's the situation?"

"We've gotten the outpost neutralized. En route to the extraction zone Bravo."

"Copy that, I'll get a bird to meet you there."

* * *

 **So the new kid and Austal begin to rub shoulders. She saved your life man, you should be grateful about that...whatever.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	4. Spartan Ops III

**Shield World Requiem**

 **February 14, 2558**

The single T-56 Lich slithered through the night sky and cast its light on the smoldering wreckage. Surrounding it was a company of phantom dropships and banshee fighters. Their gravity lifts activated and they dropped several personnel on the ground, who in turn spread out to secure the area.

Several large figures were already around the rubble patrolling in slow steps. The big Promethean Knights were even taller than the sangheili working alongside them and their rather erratic behavior reflected their robotic nature. They also seemed to make spasmodic movements and sounds that felt as if they were some sort of insect. As the group of sangheili approached, two of the knights faced one another and one of them thrust its face in front of the other, a "mask" parting in two to reveal a glowing skull underneath. The other one stood still, unfazed by the gesture.

The blue armored elite descended from the lich, accompanied by a pair of zealots and strode to the crash site. When he was in view of the cockpit, he waved his arm, a signal to the lich, in turn revved its engines and began flying away from their position.

Self-proclaimed Supreme Commander Jul 'Mdama made no effort in trying to socialize with the groups of robotic knights surrounding his former camp. They were machines and had no sense of personality or motivation. If he needed their assistance, they along with their smaller crawler and watcher cousins would spawn on the field. He had no direct command over them, if they wanted to spawn at an area, they would come and go as they pleased.

"Commander," A storm sangheili held his rifle at attention when 'Mdama approached, "Previous logs by the outpost's commander seem to be that the shields were deactivated before the humans attacked."

After the UNSC _Infinity_ crash landed on Requiem, allowing his fleet to enter; he had his sizeable army set up outposts and fortresses to supplement his fleet inside the world. The force flourished and his name was now being cited as a major player in the post-war era.

All of this had started because of his hatred for humans.

Unlike most other sangheili he served alongside in the Covenant, he did not hate humans because they were heretics. He hated them because if they defeated the Covenant, which they did (of course not alone) they would expand uncontrollably like an invasive species. The only thing worse than them was the parasitic Flood.

Still, the presence of the human named Glassman gave him more insight. He had begged for his life when he unexpectedly appeared right into their territory and Jul agreed on the bargaining chip that he'd work with them as a slave in hopes he could be able to walk away from this.

He had agreed, but he never said anything about walking away in one piece.

There was another part of humans he hated in particular. Spartans.

Back in the days of the Covenant, they were called Demons, partially believed to be reincarnated soldiers previously killed and coming back to haunt their killers. They were so rare back then. Now that they had bigger ships outfitted with reverse-engineered Covenant technology and even normal humans were becoming these Spartans.

Were they just as lethal as the other ones? Sometimes, but also sometimes not.

Nonetheless this was an act of Spartans doing. He would count on his troops to put up a fight against normal humans and when they were under attack, it would take a lot longer to get destroyed, enough to send out a signal for reinforcements. Yet here they were without probable cause of annihilation.

"Any idea who the attackers were?" 'Mdama asked.

"No Commander," The storm replied, "We've attempted retrieval of the logs and security feeds, but it is as if everything just completely vanished."

"This is the work of demons," Jul's voice dripped with malice and contempt, "Get ahold of our other sources and I want a list of names. Whoever they are; I want to be the one to put a sword through their hearts."

Jul didn't get angry at many things, but hearing this loss right before losing a pair of cruisers in an enormous engagement that almost destroyed one of his bigger bases continued to irritate and fuel his hatred for humans.

"Commander, you need to see this."

'Mdama hurried over with his bodyguards, gathering around the storm.

The elite was holding a small device that looked almost microscopic in his hand. Obviously it was made for humans due to its tiny size but it immediately powered up when it was touched.

Jul didn't know much about human culture, but he knew this was some sort of communication device.

The small screen flickered for a moment before it revealed an image.

An image that further heated his boiling blood.

Five Spartans were grouped together, each of them was holding up the severed heads of sangheili zealots.

These five were some of his best zealots, in his elite bodyguard unit. These Spartans easily defeated them and displayed it like it was some kind of prize.

Although as infuriating as it was, the sign was what really got him.

In front of them lay a banner written in English, but his armor's translator automatically made the adjustment.

"Happy Valentine's Day Jul 'Mdama! Much love from Eon!"

For the first time he set foot on Requiem, Jul 'Mdama lost his temper.

With a roar of fury, he whirled around, a plated arm striking a metal barrier into scrap. He grabbed another piece of rubble and tossed it out of his way. For some reason, in his fit, he had his energy sword in his right hand.

It came alive with a bright flash and he swiped, stabbed and slashed at whatever was in his way. He let out an anguished cry, suddenly grabbing a grunt that was a bystander and flinging it away.

The unfortunate unggoy was screaming as he landed on top of one of the knights and already panicking as the mechanical beast tried fruitlessly to shake it off. Finally it swung its own hardlight blade upwards, striking the grunt and bisecting it, ending its terror.

'Mdama continued his furious tantrum, waving his sizzling sword around as the others hastily backed off. After a minute, he had finally calmed down and observed his work. The metal wall had been scorched enough that it was no longer discernable as being the normal purple hue. Surrounding him were the other elites and his rage had even caught the attention of the knights.

"I am putting out a bounty for this Eon," Jul said, "I want them dead now! A handsome reward is in store for whoever brings them to me alive. I want to make them feel unimaginable pain. If they're dead, recover their helmets and we will send the humans a message of our own."

* * *

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_

"Castle didn't deserve to die like they were." Palmer spoke at the podium. The entire contingent of Spartans were in their dress blues, minus the ones already deployed were in the atrium park holding a short memorial service. Six caskets covered in the red Spartan eagle banner were laid beside the podium, with what remained of Castle.

"They deserved a heroes death, but instead, they were shot down and then massacred as if they were in a slaughterhouse. Know this, anyone who seeks to kill me or any of my Spartans should be praying to their gods now. Thanks to the efforts of Eon, we were finally able to avenge their deaths by killing those responsible, however this does not mean the end of our mission here. The elite who ordered this attack, Jul 'Mdama is still out there and one day we will put a bullet through his head and make sure our friends and families back home can feel a little safer at night. Rest in peace."

Fireteam Castle's loss was devastating to the Spartans and Eon knew it too well. A few months ago, they lost an entire team, Jaguar to brute extremists. There was no struggle or any fairness in the fight. The four of them were mercilessly killed without any casualties on the other side. Eon of course avenged their deaths, but the loss of a whole team at once seriously stung.

Now the _Infinity_ was feeling it.

A member of the UNSC Navy Band began to play "Amazing Grace" as the caskets of Castle's remains were loaded onto a Pelican and ejected into space.

Palmer saluted as it departed, followed by all the Spartans. They remained saluting in the direction of the Spartan flag at the top of the hangar until the bagpipe had finished playing.

"Spartans," She called out, "It's back to work. Report to your handlers for your next ops. Remember, the Atrium Valentine's Day Dance is here in this park today at 2015 hours! So if you want to look good in front of your teammates, I'd suggest looking for someone to ask."

There was no reception and the two hundred or so Spartans began to disperse in different directions. The majority headed to S-Deck to begin prep for their next ops on the surface.

Lusana approached Austal and Bailey, "Now would be the time to report your misconduct to Commander Palmer."

"Now? Really?" Austal whined, "Cap, it was a mistake."

"Captain." He corrected, "I normally expect the behavior you exhibited a couple days ago from Fowler. Go report it to Palmer or I'll report it to Tyrant. Either way, we have to document any personal incidents to make sure it never happens again."

"That could get me suspended!"

"And that is going on my record!" Bailey added.

"I can report it and I won't even put in a request for a report on your perspective. You're going to have to file the paperwork,"

"Fine," They both said and turned away, heading towards Palmer.

Fowler and Pine watched the two of them go as Tony sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"If he wasn't married, they'd make a good one." Ross quipped.

"I still don't know what Austal's beef with her is about," Fowler added, "I mean, she did save his life, shouldn't he be appreciative of that?"

"Let's not forget you gave the rookie a cold shoulder too."

"I did that to Austal when he joined us, but he proved he's worthy of staying with us and from the way she handled the pressure a couple days ago, she proved it too."

"Let the misconduct get handled by me and Palmer," Lusana turned to his other squadmates, "We will take further action if more tension happens between the two."

"Like sexual tension?"

"You had to bring that up."

* * *

"Thank you Spartan Miller," Palmer handed a tablet to one of her handlers and strode to the operations table. The command center overlooking S-Deck was rather quiet, with the loss of Castle hanging over their heads. Nevertheless, all the teams out there knew to be extra careful and their analysts were leaving every small detail to be examined and translated properly. Palmer declared that nobody else today was going home in a body bag.

The more casual conversation was flitting around Infinity. The Atrium Park Valentine's Day dance. Personnel of all branches were in the rooms, halls and lounges talking about it, who was going, who they were going to bring or asking others if they knew someone had already been asked.

The event had even reached Spartan Ops, where the Spartans began to ask one another to the dance. Many of them weren't married and it was a mixed bag of the fours that would be going.

"Spartan Austal," Palmer looked up when she was approached by the duo, "Spartan Bailey. What can I do for you?"

"We'd like to report an incident of personal misconduct," Bailey started.

"Between who?"

"Us," They answered at the same time. Palmer's face went from intrigued to a frown.

"What are You? schoolkids? You two are Spartans. This is a big playground out there and I have no time to play superintendent. What happened?"

"I pushed an unstable ghost into an elite attacking Ma-, Spartan Austal ma'am and he berated me for doing that."

"I had the elite under my control,"

"Really?" She looked over in surprise, "I wouldn't call about to be stabbed with a sword under control."

"I wouldn't call playing with a ghost that's about to be destroyed" under control" either, but you had no regard to your own self. You could have died in that!"

"I think that if I'm going to be with your team, I should be subject to the same risks you are! I'm a Spartan!"

"Spartans?" Palmer's tone turned serious again and she looked irritated already, "Are you two done bickering?"

"Yes Commander." Austal said.

"Bailey?"

"We're done Commander,"

"From what I've digested so far, you two are making a big deal out of this for nothing. Now, Bailey saved your life Austal and while I am not your true commander, I'll say it again, as long as you're on my ship, you will report to me, take my orders and follow my rules. She deserves an apology and a form of gratitude. Bailey, while he was wrongful to act in the way he did, you did needlessly risk yourself. Judging from your past service, I'm curious why?"

"That was a different Bailey," She firmly responded, "I'm a changed person."

"Perhaps you are. From this point forward, you two WILL get along. Whatever it takes. I don't care if you two have to go to the dance tonight to make it up, but I have hundreds of issues that happen a day and I shouldn't need to address petty squabbles like this. Am I understood?"

"Yes Commander,"

"Good. You both wasted my time. Get out of my sight."

* * *

 **So our good friend Jul 'Mdama wants Eon's head on a platter while Austal and Bailey bicker with one another. Pretty good start to the Requiem campaign...**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	5. Spartan Ops IV

**UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **in orbit above Requiem**

 **February 14, 2558**

The Atrium Park was much different at this hour than it was when the funeral for Castle. Fancy lights lit the darkened room in a rainbow of colors and the speakers were blaring loud trendy music.

The grass turf was full of all kinds of people as they simply danced the night away. Many of them were never born dancers, but after constant days after days of working around the clock, even the thought of a simple night of recreation was gold in their minds. Everyone there was either in a suit, dress or their service uniform. Infinity had a sizable civilian population aboard, with scientists, assistants and consultants to name a few of their occupations.

After a while, the DJ had tuned it down to a much slower romantic theme, people began to pair up and slowly sway to the beat, arms around one another.

None of Eon really wanted to be there. Lusana had hung out at the Spartan's table before excusing himself to speak to Tyrant. Fowler had gone off into the crowd, probably to hit it up with one of the ladies. That left Austal and Pine, who curiously watched Bailey at one of the other tables talking with a few other Spartans, which they assumed were her old fireteam. She had spotted Eon at a table when she walked into the atrium, but wasn't invited nor did she take an initiative. However she did speculate that they wouldn't just blatantly ignore her…maybe Austal would, but she did spot them from a far distance.

"Now here's the one thing about being a married man," Pine continued to lecture on. Ever since they had gone into the place, he had talked to Austal the dos and don'ts that was bestowed upon him from wearing a ring.

"Do not under any circumstance dance with someone else's girl and you are no longer allowed to accept an invitation from them. Especially if your wife hates her."

"If we're not allowed to dance here then why the hell are we here?"

"We are here to make sure Fowler doesn't get himself into trouble."

"So you can say we're the designated drivers."

"More like designated walkers to haul his drunk ass back to the quarters,"

"That won't go well on his record," Austal chuckled.

Pine agreed with him, "No it will not and he is responsible enough to keep in check. We should also make sure Bailey is okay too."

"I thought you said we aren't allowed to dance with other women,"

"First of all, I didn't say you had to dance with her and second, she's not here and unless you told her about it, then it's all good. She's not here to stop you. Would you stop Gabrielle if she wanted to dance with another man for fun?"

Marcus shrugged, "I'd probably deck the guy if he looked like he was going to kiss her,"

"Exactly, it's all just fine as long as you don't cross the romantic borders. Besides, we never did throw you a bachelor party and it will take a few days for your marriage to validate on your home in New Corsica; so technically you're still single."

"Are you insinuating that I should ask Bailey to dance?"

Ross lightly hit Marcus' shoulder, "C'mon man, I know that incident back there was just a cover up. You think she's hot." He pointed at himself, "I do and I've been married for six years. Loosen up bro."

They both sipped their punch and watched as one of the officers approached Bailey, casually inviting her to dance, but she smiled and politely declined. A couple more guys, including one of the Spartans tried their luck and had the same result.

"Go before she's stuck with someone she doesn't want to be with."

"Not happening."

"Hi Marcus!" A blonde woman called out in a teasing manner before the group of ladies behind her burst into laughter. He raised an eyebrow.

"How do they know my name?"

"She's the one you kept staring at while we were getting our paycheck deposits. That was the financial officer remember?"

"Oh right." He sighed, "Fine."

It had only been a couple of days but Bailey's old fireteam, Wake but it felt like she was completely alienated from them.

She never really got along or even took the time to get to know any of the guys, but they had asked her a couple questions and then resumed talking amongst one another.

From one group of boys that shunned her to another and then back to the first.

A shadow fell over her and she had silently grumbled that Eon didn't have an op yet. The bunch of men that had come to ask her onto the floor were drastically different age groups from both quite young and old enough to be her grandfather.

"No thanks, but I appreciate the offer,"

"Wow you are an elusive fish," A familiar voice said.

Bailey looked up. This guy was the last person she wanted to dance with. How he was married and an ass at the same time baffled her.

"Definitely no to you,"

"Well I was kind of hoping we'd be able to enjoy ourselves before we're gone on another op,"

"Well I'm with my old team here and enjoying myself just fine."

"You don't look too involved."

"Spartan, she said no already," One of Wake bluntly snapped, "Go find someone else."

Marcus nodded, "Let me know if you change your mind,"

As he left, the rest of Wake began talking amongst themselves again. Occasionally one would point to a single girl out in the crowd and asking the others if he would have any luck.

"Thanks guys,"

None of them even paid attention, only when they began wondering if she'd be inclined to dance with them too.

Wake wasn't a bad team. She and the rest of them worked together fine in War Games and on the field, but she was once again the loner when the armor and helmet came off.

Sighing, she got up from the table and left her old squad.

They didn't even glance in her direction.

* * *

"You know this doesn't mean we're good," Bailey growled as she and Austal gently danced with one another alongside the others.

He didn't smile, "I didn't ask you because I wanted to apologize," When she frowned in confusion, he added, "I asked because you definitely looked uncomfortable and you looked about ready to leave if someone else came up,"

"They're all a bunch of rats and you're one of them,"

"Hey," He feigned hurt, "We're dancing here, can't you be at least a little nice?"

"Fine."

"How much do I owe?"

Something like that just infuriated Blake, but he had said it in such a nonchalant manner, she held her tongue in trying not to laugh.

Still, she was mad at him for lashing out at her just because she saved his life. He seemed cocky, but he was good at fighting, so he could at least back it up.

"You're married," The question was blurted out, "Why'd you ask me?"

"So you didn't look so lonely."

* * *

The dance ended shortly after and Eon felt rested and ready to head out, but still no missions had been set. Fireteam Crimson had eliminated Parg Vol, but in the process it revealed a much more sinister leader of the Covenant.

Jul 'Mdama.

Known as the Didact's Hand, he was among the first of the fleet to enter the planet when the Master Chief was pulled inside as well. When the former Captain Del Rio made the decision to leave without the Spartan, 'Mdama quickly established outposts and bases all around the planet.

When Infinity arrived six months later, the Covenant and their allied Promethean constructs had nearly complete control of the planet. Some parts were easy to clear out and establish their own UNSC bases, but there was a lot of ground still under their control.

Only Bailey had faced the Prometheans, so she was briefing them on their new enemies just a couple hours in the morning. Their next op had the potential to face these new foes and despite her little experience combatting them, it was better than going in blind without any idea of their dangers and weaknesses.

"These are the crawlers," She pointed to a hologram with the quadrupedal drones, "They're fast, attack in packs, but lightly armored and fairly easy to deal with. You've also got the support watchers and finally the knights. These guys are tough and have multiple layers of shielding and armor, so it does take a lot of fire to eliminate them. They have different rank structures too, but they all share one characteristic."

"What's that?"

"They're all dangerous and unpredictable with their teleportation abilities. Kill on sight." She brought up more holograms, "We have Lancers, who will use a binary or light rifle, they'll often teleport in a charging motion when their shields are breached. Battlewagons here use scattershots and often jump to attack. Finally the Commanders are the ones who have incineration cannons and they can pulse themselves into the air, which can really drain your shields," She tapped the last one, "Just don't get close because it usually follows its pulse up with a shot and it's enough to burn you to bits."

"Always love new competition on things trying to kill us," Fowler said, "Can't wait to meet all of them."

"Gentlemen," Lusana stood up, "Why don't we go and see how we fare up against these Prometheans in the War Games?"

Everyone nodded or spoke their agreement.

* * *

 **So with awkward dances and introductions of the Prometheans, we move on to the next op :D**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	6. Spartan Ops V

**UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **in orbit above Requiem**

 **February 18, 2558**

Commander Palmer stood rigidly upright as Eon filed into the briefing area in their undersuits. It was clear that their commander back at the colonies was running the helm for this operation and it didn't suit well with her that she was going to be left in the dark for this one.

After Valentine's Day, they had done only one op to support another Spartan fireteam and after that, it had remained quiet for the longest time without any new missions from Infinity's command or from Tyrant himself.

So coming back to find out they had something for their attention was well worth getting away. They had already exceeded their monthly requirements in the War Games and spent the rest of it exploring around the ship. It was remarkable with the shopping venues, fitness centers and lounges, although the latter was only available to officers and actually had some decent food besides MREs and protein pastes.

Eon all stood at attention and snapped a salute to the hologram of Tyrant, who was in his Enforcer-class MJOLNIR. Palmer returned the salute and briskly exited the room.

"Eon, we've received intelligence and analysis from Covenant formations that they are preparing to move a cruiser to this sector of Requiem for repairs to damage sustained in a UNSC airstrike when you arrived back. Your mission is to gather information on the extent of the damage."

"Hang on, if we're going to destroy the cruiser, then why are we just surveying it?" Bailey asked.

"Good question Spartan Bailey. The _Ever Steadfast_ is a RCS armored cruiser that saw extensive action when it combatted the Swords of Sanghelios a few years back. Their warships indicate that the _Steadfast_ had advanced plasma turret capabilities that were seen only on certain variations of the assault carriers. Other warships may also be outfitted with similar armaments and if it turns out to be true, the Covenant will be able to initiate precision long range strikes that reach as far as Galileo Base nearly halfway around the world."

"I assume these torpedoes are capable of damaging _Infinity_?"

"Not at full shields, but the frigate escorts are more vulnerable and they do pose a much more tempting target, especially if it's a means to draw us out."

"Sounds like a plan, but that is deep in Covenant territory, how the hell are we supposed to get close? If we go on foot, it could take days to set up an overwatch and the cruiser might move position by then?"

"We're going to drop you off at your designated exfil point. A local contact with the Covenant will move you close to an ideal area where you can retreat and board if necessary." Tyrant looked down, "More intel will go on your pads while you head out,"

* * *

 **Covenant controlled territory, Requiem**

"And I thought working with a newbie was bad enough," Fowler grumbled as they watched their pelican take off into the sky, "Now we get to work with the Covies, the bastards who burned and maimed our own people."

"A lot of people share your sentiment too Fowler," Bailey swept her assault rifle over the area, "Although I think it's a good start that we have an ally who can put up a fight against our enemies, the thought of the same people who were at war with us does not suit well with others."

"It's enough for them to start a war themselves," Pine added, "At least we can contain the Innies who want to resume their nefarious activities for now, but it's only a matter of time before another all out war breaks out again."

"Eon," Lusana sharply said, "Enough bickering."

He constantly scanned their surroundings, almost as if trying to find something watching them.

"I sense it too," Austal said.

"Sense what?"

"I just feel like we're about to get hit."

"DOWN!" Fowler had saw it first and rushed forward, tackling Austal and Bailey to the ground with both arms just as the air was pierced by a fine shot of hardlight.

"Snipers!"

Eon quickly stacked themselves against the side of a rock where several Promethean crawler snipers had filled the area with fire from their binary rifles. At the same time, in front of them, a group of knights had phased in.

"Take them down!"

Lusana led the team as they peppered the large mechanical warriors with fire. Their shields dissipated in bluish light before they finally died out, disintegrating in bright orange. One of the knights aimed its sword arm at the group, launching a grenade. It hit Fowler directly and quickly expanded into a giant orange sphere that drained his shields.

"What the-?" He cursed before stepping out. His shotgun adjusted aim and he quickly pumped two buckshot shells into his attacker before drawing his magnum and daring to peer over the horizon.

The five or so crawlers were getting impatient that their targets weren't being flushed out by the knights and had changed position. Fowler saw that they had a bright red circle around their "mouths" that indicated they were about to shoot.

So much for being subtle snipers, the glow pretty much gave them away.

Centering his aim on the one on the far right, he squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit it right in the maw and he was satisfied to see it explode into tiny pieces.

"One's down!"

In the meantime, the rest of Eon had their active camouflage engaged and slowly moved out of cover with Fowler keeping tabs on any more knights that might enter in on them.

Ross fired two shots from his sniper, "Two of them are done,"

"Another one's history," Lusana said.

"Got the last one!" Bailey fired a stream downrange, killing the final sniper.

The sound of more knights phasing in were accompanied by the sound of a phantom approaching.

"We got more knights!"

The closest one, a battlewagon suddenly leaped into the air with its sword aglow as Bailey and Fowler dove out of its way. Austal drilled it several times with his battle rifle and fluidly put it away, drawing his sidearm to empty it into the knight's face. Still, the tough armor continued to hold against his assault.

Bailey joined him, aiming with her smart-scope on the MA5D, spraying it and finally the battlewagon gave away and stiffened before the bright orange had completely disintegrated it.

The phantom halted right above them for a moment and its turret turned towards the prometheans.

It fired at them, large blobs of explosive plasma cutting the work for them in half. Eon wasn't questioning the seemingly quick change of loyalty, but they remained skeptical as well.

Within a minute, the last of the knights had been killed by their combined efforts.

"This our contact?" Fowler asked, still scanning for more.

As if to answer his question, the belly of the phantom glowed green as the gravity lift became active as it came to a halt above them.

A tall figure stepped into the lift and slowly descended to the bottom. Eon noticed him immediately and aimed their weapons at the sangheili. While they were fairly sure this was their contact, it was just as plausible that the Covenant had been tipped off and sent someone else.

He was unarmed, save for an inactive energy sword on his hip. The standard issue smooth blue harness of the storm rank looked almost oversized and out of place. His dark eyes scanned over the five of them, wary, but the dossiers of all before him confirmed their identities as he checked it out in his own HUD.

"That's far enough," Lusana commanded as the elite stepped out of the gravity lift's beam.

He halted nonchalantly, standing there and staring back as if daring for them to fire the first shot. While he was quite skilled with the sword at his hip, he knew that the others were in a stance ready to take off his head if he so much thought about reaching for it.

"Thunder," The word came out like a rumble.

At the recognition of the code word Eon relaxed, "Always follows lightning."

"Hotel Victor X-Ray. What is the food of the day?"

Lusana remembered the clearance Tyrant had given them, "The food of the day is baked potatoes,"

Satisfied, the sangheili stepped forward, "We need to move quickly, it won't be long before the Prometheans return." He spoke very good English for one of his species. Even the pronunciation of the "P" was better than most others' attempts.

"Lead the way,"

As the elite headed up towards the phantom, Lusana was stopped by Fowler.

"Sure we can trust him? How do you know what mumbo jumbo he just said was legit?"

"I don't think we have a choice for that matter,"

"Just saying, if we're caught, what's going to stop him from coming after our throats with that sword of his along with the rest of his goons?"

"We're Eon, we always will have a backup plan,"

"Well maybe I won't be missed when I'm dead," Fowler grumbled as he jogged towards the lift, "But Austal…he's got a wife and if I can help it, I don't want to send him into a death situation and have to write her a letter. She was a bit fucked emotionally and something like this could go over the top."

"I have a wife," Lusana reminded him, "I have two boys. Ross has a wife, a boy and another one coming later this year. I don't know what family Bailey has to go to, but you're under my command and that's everyone's going home." As they entered the cabin of the phantom, it began to move, heading back in the direction it had come from, "Even if we have to put our lives in the hands of one of the enemy's to do so."

"My name is Ayit 'Sevi," Their sangheili accomplice introduced himself, "I work for the Office of Naval Intelligence on the behalf of infiltrating radical Covenant cells in order to gleam information on their whereabouts, motives and vectors of threat."

"Doesn't matter what you do," Fowler kept a hawk's eye on the sword, "You're still one of the hinge-heads."

"Police the comments Fowler,"

"Don't you dare think about drawing that damn blade and try to kill us or I'll put you down before you can swing."

"That's enough,"

'Sevi sighed, "Fowler is it?" He didn't wait for a reply, "I understand that you harbor a great resentment towards me and my people and I don't blame you. But this is a different time and a different place. I could have easily killed one of you by now, but by doing so the rest of you would have probably cut me down by the time I turn my attention to someone else."

"Okay,"

"You will probably not be the last Spartans I will have to work with, but we may not be able to complete both of our missions if we cannot trust one another." He pointed to himself, "It goes both ways too. A big part of me still believes that you will shoot me as soon as I lower my guard."

'Sevi turned and settled himself inside the cockpit, "So that makes two of us."

* * *

Holding beside the large metal spires of Requiem, Ever Steadfast looked just like any other Covenant cruiser, bulbous with a larger body that widened at the center and slimmed out at the end where its repulsor engines were providing enough power to keep it airborne and steady.

'Sevi had opened the canopy doors as Eon surveyed the scene in their active camouflage.

It was a beehive of activity as phantoms, banshees and a small auxillary ship was moored alongside. Lances of plasma from its energy projector were hitting blackened misshapen areas on the dorsal side close to the engines. The impacts were reminiscent of MAC rounds and Archer missiles.

"Looks like it did its job," Pine commented, "Took the cruiser out of commission."

"I will take you Spartans into the hangar deck,"

"The hangar deck?"

"Eon this is Tyrant over,"

Lusana keyed his comms, "Tyrant, Eon is here. We're in position and about to conduct our recon."

"We've had a change of plans, ONI now wants that cruiser out of the picture for good."

* * *

 **Eon on another task to board and destroy a ship. Next chapter is bound to have plenty of action and reaction! The latter in an explosive way!**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	7. Invasion I

**Covenant cruiser** _ **Ever Steadfast**_ **, Requiem**

 **February 18, 2558**

'Sevi guided the phantom inside the hangar bay before setting it to dock idly in the center.

"I will secure some exfil transport and then set you all at a rendezvous point where you can return to your ship." He stalked into the cabin, "You must hasten, as it will be easier that we are compromised the longer you stay here."

"Can't we just use this tub?" Fowler asked.

"I will have to abandon it once you have departed; otherwise it can look suspicious,"

Brett was about to make a comment on how absurd it sounded before Lusana had cut in once more, "Let's go Spartans,"

Austal was the first down the lift, his camouflage activating as his boots hit the metallic floor. Scanning around, oddly there were no guards or personnel around at all. Some equipment were strewn about the greater hangar, but for the most part, the entire place remained vacant.

"No hostiles detected," He reported over the comms, "We're still in the clear."

"This is definitely unusual," 'Sevi said, "Normally there is someone here to greet us,"

"I think we're walking into a trap,"

Lusana descended next and settled by Austal, "Then let's spring it."

He turned to their sangheili cohort, "How long can you secure exfil?"

"I don't think we can depart with a phantom, but there is an aft bay that houses escape vessels. If you can reach the mainframe of the cruiser and shut it down briefly, I can seal the bays shut and then open them from my side for you,"

"And fool any Covenant watching that we were just escaping crew," Bailey concluded, "That's actually quite an interesting tactic,"

"Impressive for figuring it out," The compliment stunned her, especially coming from 'Sevi, "I have proper codes for response if we are ever hailed, but when we reach the surface again, you will have to disappear quickly."

"Bailey, go with 'Sevi," Lusana ordered, "Provide support and assurance we have a way off here,"

"That is not necessary Spartan," He protested, "I am fully capable of caring for myself,"

"What happens when you're not supposed to be here and you can't talk your way out?" Eon Lead questioned, "While we do rely on you for extract, what's not to say that you'll just lock yourself inside and deny us an exit? We'd be dead."

"If I wanted to kill you, you all would likely be dead," He stood up, "Very well. Spartan Bailey yes? Come, the escape hatch is this way."

As the two groups separated, Lusana put out a hand and pulled Eon's nickel aside.

"If he as so much tips us off or does anything to compromise this mission, don't hesitate to put a bullet through his head,"

She nodded, "I will sir."

"Good luck Spartan,"

'Sevi had provided Eon's HUDs with a general layout of the cruiser. From its history, it was an older RCS model, which were more obsolete nowadays compared to previous Covenant starship classes. The ubiquitous design was identical to the CRS and CCS classes, but the variation of their capabilities and interiors were much different.

"Cruiser mainframe is just ahead," Fowler reported being on point, "Looks like the hinge head's intel was solid."

The doors parted and slowly, the Spartans entered. Inside was a room that had several tall bright blue walls with paragraphs of text scrolling down. There were four groups of walls in total.

"Here it is," Pine found the central command and hit a few buttons on the glowing console, "Mainframe is down, rebooting in ten,"

To Bailey's surprise, the ship was not as deserted as she thought it was. As they ventured closer to the bridge and reactor, they began to see some of the ship's crew. At first, it was just grunts and jackals. She remained in camouflage and kept a low profile until they either passed or left the vicinity. So far, 'Sevi was maintaining his cover.

"Escape pod bays are close," He calmly spoke, "From here we can secure a ride out."

The shaft was located on the ceiling, a large circular hatch that was shut by three metal clamps.

With a hiss, the sangheili's energy sword ignited to life and he carefully sliced the tips through them.

Bailey looked down both ways in the hall to watch his back.

When he was done, he jumped up, latching his fingers around the edges and pulling it free. After setting it down, he squatted before springing up, grabbing the edge and pulling himself through.

"You're up,"

It was a tad bit too high for Bailey to grab since she was smaller, but he reappeared from the opening and extended his four digit arm down.

She took a running start, stowing her assault rifle and reaching out.

Her hand rested itself firmly in 'Sevi's and her weight almost caused him to fall out too, however he braced himself against the top of the ceiling and hauled her up enough so she could support herself inside.

"You're a lot heavier than you look Spartan," He made a scoffing sound that almost sounded like a chuckle.

"Mainframe is down," Pine reported over the comms, "Rebooting in ten,"

There were six escape pods were lined up in a neat row with narrow hatches that looked large enough for anything the size of a sangheili to pass. Bailey suspected that there was no point in having and unggoy or kig-yar survivors which was likely why the hatch was so high and inaccessible.

'Sevi went to work on a console, "I got it. You will be able to use this one for exfiltration."

Bailey breathed out a sigh of relief, but now she was stuck with guard duty until the rest of her team got back, "Good news, we got our escape plan,"

There was silence over the comms.

"Eon Lead? Fowler? Pine? Austal? Does anyone read?"

No response.

"Spartans of Eon, come in." 'Sevi tried and shook his head, "Curses!" He spat, "I should have anticipated this!"

"What's wrong?"

"They're jamming all communications in response to the server going down and all attempts onboard have been tapped."

"What does that mean?"

"Every time we or they try to use their comms while on this ship, it is intercepted and sent to the shipmaster."

Blake gasped, it all made complete sense now. "This was a trap."

* * *

The second the door to the reactor shaft opened up, Eon was greeted with an intense volley of plasma fire.

"Shit!" Fowler cursed, scrambling for cover. The rest of Eon stacked up on either side. Automatically, Pine moved to their six to watch for any flanking foes.

Lusana and Austal took pot shots with their pistols, being able to kill a few of the grunts, but their shields drained upon the massive spraying plasma cannon in the center.

"We're about to have our hands full," Ross called out, "I got two weird looking elites with swords heading our way."

"We're running out of time," Austal said, pulling out a frag grenade, "We either get roasted by the cannon or cut to pieces,"

"I'll take my chances with the cannon thank you," Fowler broke cover and dashed left, unleashing a barrage of bullets with his SAW. As the unggoy gunner of the plasma turret pivoted to shoot Eon Two, Austal popped out of hiding to target the grunt with his A9. A pair of the pistol's M49 8.6 x 20mm cartridges flew straight past the little armor the tiny alien wore on his helmet, causing him to slump lifelessly against the emplacement.

"Go! Go! Inside!" Lusana urged, following Austal and opening fire on the last few defenders.

Fowler had emptied his SAW into the enemy and charged forward with his shotgun. Two jackals went down, missing several of their limbs and the surviving elite shrugged off the first blast with his entire shielding although a second one sent it packing to the floor. Austal and Lusana mopped up the rest of the grunts, who had thrown their weapons down and begun to panic.

Ross Pine appeared in the entrance just as the two elites pursing them rounded the corner. He took out a frag grenade and tossed it behind him while shutting the door and smashing the panel.

A dull thud reverberated off the door as it slammed shut, but the two growling voices coming from the other side indicated that both of them had survived.

"That won't hold them for long," Lusana said, taking out a demolition charge, "Let's blow this reactor,"

"It's shielded," Brett noted.

"Let's bring it down," Eon quickly opened fire with the shields flashing as the bullets struck, but it stubbornly refused to give.

Behind them, they heard a metallic screech as something huge and metal punctured straight through the heavy door. Moments later a second blade was plunged in.

"This isn't working," Austal looked around, "There must be a shield generator,"

But there was none and they were about to have two hulking sangheili up their asses and no cruiser destruction.

Ross must have thought of the same thing too as his eyes drifted to the plasma cannon.

It was facing the other way, but Pine was in the middle of trying to rip it off its mount when the door was thrown open.

The two sangheili had cut their way through.

Each one stood quite tall for their species, much taller than 'Sevi. They both wore vastly different armor than what the Covenant standardized.

It was mostly black with a dark crimson trim. Their faces were masked with a black helmet that covered their eyes in a reddish glow. Atop their heads was a curved golden crest that preceded a white manelike covering.

Along his shoulders were large black and red pads which slimmed out into cuffs, leaving part of their muscles exposed. A similar design were on their legs.

In their hands were the biggest swords any of Eon had ever seen.

They looked similar to traditional energy swords, but parts of it were more angular with barbs along the main blade to give it a serrated appearance. Heat waves radiated from them and it was no joke that they punched straight through the foot thick door like it was paper.

Ross opened fire with the cannon and at first the two juggernauts absorbed the hits before they brought their blades in front. The plasma rounds dissipated and they were completely undamaged.

"They must take vitamins," Ross grumbled, tearing the gun off the mount and spraying up at the reactor. This time the aid of the cannon had managed to break the shields. At that exact moment, Lusana and Fowler tossed their demo charges inside before it rebooted.

With a bloodthirsty snarl, one of them charged forward. Eon heard it and immediately began pouring as much brass in its direction as possible.

Its shields flickered and it raised its sword to deflect some of the rounds, but it overloaded and gave out. Austal turned to face the other one as Lusana led the attack on his partner.

Under the submachine gun barrage, spurts of purple blood plumed out of its chest cavity before it swung the enormous blade at Lusana. Eon Lead barely had time to slide to his left and the heavy weapon gave the Spartan a rather easy task of being able to maneuver behind it.

He grasped his final two frag grenades, priming and stuffing them in the joints of the back armor before the elite's free arm came around and tossed him off.

Lusana was able to roll onto his feet after hitting the ground and casually held up the strap that held the grenades.

Immediately the elite's arm went to his back and he let out a feral roar, charging forward in a last ditch hope to take out his foe.

The grenades detonated, a muffled banging sound that sprayed blood everywhere and miraculously kept the heavy armor intact. It staggered forward towards Eon before it collapsed with a heavy thud.

The second elite growled over the loss of its partner and swung his sword high for vengeance.

From behind, Austal shot in like a bullet, knocking the two of them off balance. He grasped the helmet and raised his fist, striking two blows at the jaw. The third one came as an uppercut that made a nasty bone crunching sound causing the rest of his team to cringe.

Marcus pulled out his battle rifle and aimed it down to finish it off.

The entire ship vibrated as its engines went critical and knocked both Spartans and sangheili off their feet. Austal quickly recovered and retrieved his battle rifle to finish off the elite.

"No!" Pine grabbed his shoulder, "We gotta go! This ship's about to be a supernova!"

He hesitated keeping the massive hinge-head in his crosshairs before slipping his gun on his back and joining the others in their run out.

* * *

Among the explosions, the elite taking a ferocious beating from Austal was on his knees. He wheezed and coughed up thick purple blood until a nasty splatter containing teeth splinters was regurgitated. The feeling was normal as sangheili broke teeth all the time and it could get stuck in their throats rather painfully, but having it beat into him by a Spartan made his blood boil.

He struggled, but eventually made it to his feet and limped after them.

* * *

Bailey hauled Lusana, the last of Eon up the shaft as they came to the escape pod bay with Ayit 'Sevi awaiting them.

"I have set up a rendezvous with ONI," He declared, "They will pick you up at the coordinates I am going to send to your feed,"

"Let's go," Lusana said as he was the last of them inside the rather cramped space. He turned to 'Sevi, "Come on, this cruiser isn't going to exist for much longer,"

"I have my own way out. You best get going Spartans,"

He waited a second to deduce his plan, "They may not buy it,"

"I have plenty of ways to keep my cover intact," 'Sevi informed them, "Besides, my work with these Covenant is not yet complete," He reached out with a hand, "Good luck to you Spartans. Perhaps we may meet again sometime."

Lusana hesitated before reaching out and shaking it, "You too 'Sevi."

He climbed back inside as Ayit shut the hatch and they quickly jettisoned out. A holographic display was at the front showing the _Ever Steadfast_ as explosions bloomed all around its hull before it finally was consumed by an even bigger one that sent fiery debris flying everywhere.

"Look," Pine pointed just below the explosion.

Several other pods were released and they too were falling rapidly towards the surface, but also away from Eon's.

"So he was rather nice for an elite," Fowler said out loud.

"As long as they don't shoot on sight, I couldn't care less." Bailey added.

Everyone chuckled lightly at that.

"Still," Eon Lead breathed a sigh of relief, "I'm just glad we got out of there alive, considering what we fought,"

"Never again,"

"Amen,"

Another chuckle.

"When we get back to Infinity, I want to speak to Tyrant about everything we encountered. There's no doubt that the Covenant are up to something and we are a piece to the puzzle,"

* * *

Many miles from Eon's projected landing site, Ayit 'Sevi hauled the beaten armored sangheili out of the hatch just as a phantom crested the sky. He activated his sword just in case of any threats as well as a signal. The pilot saw it and shined the turret's light on him as he crossed over to the gravity lift.

Carried aboard, he set the wounded warrior down as the pilot came back to check on them.

"Are you alright?" The storm asked.

"Fine," 'Sevi waved him off, "There are several survivors landing to the east," That was the opposite direction of Eon's pod, "We should hasten to their rescue and regroup,"

The pilot nodded and headed back to the cockpit. Moments later they were heading eastbound.

'Sevi heard the other elite stir from unconsciousness and turned.

"Did they survive?"

A very generic question.

"Who survived?"

"Those demons," The "d" word came out with malice and intense hatred.

"I was able to corner them, but they found the escape hatches and managed to get away,"

"Those demons….same ones who killed 'Mdama's best zealots," He huffed, "I am going to hunt them down like the nishum they are,"

'Sevi didn't say anything for the rest of the ride as they picked up survivors of the cruiser. Had he said something, it would come back to bite him.

When you encountered such an ambitious elite that was this bloodthirsty, you stayed out of their way as much as possible.

This elite thirsted for human blood to sizzle from his blade and Eon would be the first of many that would be of his slaughter.

* * *

 **So Eon has gotten the attention of some dangerous elites and things are about to get rough on Requiem! The sangheili juggernauts they faced in the reactor room take inspiration of armor from Haka, a main character in the Duel. I will elaborate more very soon!**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	8. Invasion II

**Covenant Controlled Territory**

 **February 19, 2558**

Turz 'Xiva let out a loud groan as his eyes slid open. His entire body ached with sharp pains and he felt like there were solid rocks in his gut.

The same thing kept playing over and over in his head as he slept through the night. The exploding reactor core, the Spartans holding them off and finally being pulled aboard by a lowly storm.

He shook his head, not sure what was more humiliating, being bested by the demons or found by that one elite. How dare he be treated as an equal, didn't he notice his symbolism?

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but your brother Kead is dead,"

'Xiva looked up at the eyes of Jul 'Mdama standing before him. He then realized that he did not have any armor on and was wearing nothing but a dressing sheet. He might as well have been completely naked.

"Commander 'Mdama," He gave an annoyed huff, "I wasn't expecting you to be in my presence,"

Jul reciprocated the gesture back at him, "Of course not, but we both know what I want out of you."

"You have shamed me by healing my wounds and letting me lose my honor. What makes you think I am going to give you anything?"

"Because if you are like any of your secret friends," He mocked the last part, "Then you will want us to share any information we obtain and same with us. War with the humans must be done carefully."

"Says you,"

"Your value is the only thing that is keeping you alive right now," Jul was annoyed with 'Xiva already, "Aside from your stupid little Vahkai code."

More than anything, 'Xiva wanted to thrust his hot metal blade into 'Mdama's chest. His disregard for the traditions and values simply infuriated him. It wasn't that he abhorred them from his organization, Jul just didn't care and even hated the fact that 'Xiva and his men were allowed to knowingly infiltrate his ranks.

Not only did they disrupt his planning, but they compromised at least a dozen of his lieutenants, which led to their assassination at the hands of this Eon.

So it was clear as the day that Turz 'Xiva was not one of his favorite people. However he needed him alive as the important task he was about to bestow might be of the benefit for both the Vahkai and Covenant.

"Nevertheless, I still fixed you because I believe you still want whoever had given you the thrashing to be impaled on your blade,"

"You are correct on that,"

"Good," 'Mdama was rather pleased that the tension between them had simmered down, "I have a proposition to make that could benefit both of us and as the Vahkai's main representative in my faction, I suggest you accept it."

"And if I don't?" The hostility was back.

"I have tolerated you and your likeminded monks for this long, don't think I am aware of you and your infiltrators within my ranks. I will call upon my lieutenants to root the rest of your lot out and place you for execution or even worse," He leaned closer, "Tip off the humans to assault your helpless position. Besides, I think you want to see more dead humans, specifically demons."

'Xiva readied a response, but he knew Jul was right. They could work together on human destruction…for now.

"Very well, what is your plan?"

* * *

 **UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **in orbit over Requiem**

It was an early morning rise for the two Fowler and Austal were the first up.

For the first time in roughly a week, the Spartans actually had ample time to sleep before they reported to their War Games exercise at precisely 0900 hours.

Both of them gathered small bags of their personal toiletries and headed for the showers.

Like the junior officers, Spartans had access to the individual stalls although they shared a common lobby. Enlisted personnel had the large shower rooms and the senior officers had private stalls. Captain Lasky's master bathroom was in his private quarters just adjacent to his office.

At such an early morning, most people were reporting for duty for the first thing of the day or still sound asleep. This was the time when the ship's activity in the washrooms were the lowest.

Neither of them had a problem of showering in the presence of others, it was also an opportunity to be able to get hot water the entire time. Both of them were quite grateful that they had access this early. Come later in the evening, the showers would be crowded, patience dries quickly and the water runs cold.

Austal twisted the dials and let the intense spray cover his entire body and run down the sides of his legs, bracing his hands against the wall and enjoying the heat as it continued to climb until it felt as if it was just a couple degrees shy of scalding.

Ten minutes later, he finished washing himself, shutting off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist.

Fowler was finished too and he stepped out.

"That one new?"

He turned around and looked down at the tattoo of a black serpent dragon that was on part of his left deltoid and went to the tip of his breast, "Oh yeah, I found a sweet parlor back in Ninth Bay when I went back to see mom and he was more than happy to do my stencil."

"What about the incomplete one on your back?"

"This one?" He turned around, at the bottom of his neck he had the words EON written in dark cursive slightly to his left, "This one's for us when we serve together, now and for the years to come."

"I like it," Austal grinned, "Should say something like Eon; Always on point."

"Yeah. Maybe Eon, Forever,"

"That sounds hella girly, Eon is family."

"No!" Fowler protested, "Absolutely fuck no! You think Eon forever is girly and you come up with some shit like that?"

"Think about it!"

"Eon is family," He frowned, "Huh; it does have a nice ring to it. What about you? Any new body work?"

"Nah," Out of the four of them, only Fowler and Austal had more than one tattoo. His ink was an emblem of the Spartans, an eagle holding arrows and a thunderbolt on his left shoulder. On his back was cursive writing of "Servitas Vitae" the French translation of an official motto of the UNSC Navy Para-Rescue Forces and he had another one that was black in color with the official motto of the 37th in cursive over the signature delta emblem of the division, "cedo nulli"

"I'm all done with tattoos, I think." He broke out his shaving kit and rubbed a handful of Gillette cream onto his face, "You?"

"I might get one more," Fowler came up to the sink next to him, "Adds diversity and the more ink you got, the more kinks you get with the ladies,"

"To each his own, I suppose." Marcus carefully guided a razor over his chin and tilted his head upward, rather pleased at the handiwork.

"Speaking of ladies how's Gabrielle?"

"She's fine; I spoke to her last night." Austal's response was a bit too firm.

"I hit a sensitive spot?" Fowler picked up on it.

"Nah, she's just anxious for this tour to be over. I promised her that I would be back for a long time once this was done." He looked over, "Brett, this is not what I imagined in getting married so early, but I feel like we're going to distance ourselves with one another if I constantly get called away for duty."

"Easy there Romeo, no need to get your panties all tied up before you undo hers. She knows that your job is dangerous and you are away for prolonged periods of time, but any woman who is willing to put up with that is definitely up for keeps."

"I just feel like I am leading her into a hardship she does not deserve,"

"So you think separating is going to help? That might put even more stress on her."

"I'm thinking I should never have married her in the first place,"

"Ah shit you're already talking like a pessimist and you ain't even been on your honeymoon yet!" He seized his best friend's shoulders and looked at Austal straight in the eye, "Go home, spend time together, be a damn husband and do your part! If she's worth it, then you don't ever give up on trying making her the happiest lady in the entire galaxy! Otherwise you are not worthy of her if you're not going to even going to make an effort!" He shook his head, "I get it. It's not easy being married to someone on the force. It never is and it is not going to get any better, but your marriage is guaranteed to fail if you do nothing!"

"Wow, this is coming from a guy who has never had a decent relationship in years."

"A year and a half ago you were on that same ship,"

Before Austal could retort, a loud alarm sounded through the ship. Emergency lights snapped on, blazing everything in a deep red.

"CAPTAIN LASKY TO ALL HANDS! BATTLESTATIONS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!"

One look and that's what both Spartans needed. Quickly throwing on their undersuits, they were about to exit when gunfire began to erupt right outside the shower doors. MA5D rifles. They also heard the high pitched sound of the Promethean suppressors too and they overcame the sounds of the human made weapons in less than a minute. Neither of them questioned how the constructs had made it onto the ship, only how to deal with them.

Neither Spartan was in their armor or had a weapon of their own, so getting their way to the main S-deck where both awaited, was going to be quite a challenge. They both ducked back inside their stalls, minds firing on overdrive on planning an escape.

Footsteps that sounded mechanical came closer and Fowler had his personal mirror out. He stuck it slightly outside and scanned the surroundings.

A single knight had ventured in to secure or examine the area. It glanced over at the two bags before walking further inside.

Judging by its current speed, they had about ten seconds to figure out a plan before it discovered them behind the walls and shredded them to bits from hardlight rounds.

Austal found his solution, being able to detach the entire shower door and just as the knight came to his stall, he shoved it out. It was caught off guard and the rather heavy glass knocked it off its feet.

He was right after it and barely avoided the bright orange hardlight blade from bisecting him when Fowler had done the same thing, except he swung the door like a battering ram and this time the knight was flung backwards on its front.

"Get the blade!" He screamed as he dove on top of the mechanical beast, enraging it to the point it began thrashing around as the Spartan held the door to keep it pinned.

Austal laced his fingers around the sword and pulled harder than he thought as he had no armor on.

With a loud snap, the blade came free and he wasted no time in spearing it through the knight's back, causing it to scream before vanishing in an amber colored dusting.

The suppressor rifle lay on the floor. Austal scooped it up and tossed it over to the other Spartan, "You're a better shot anyway with these things in the War Games."

Leading the way out, Fowler saw that an entire Marine squad had been killed just outside. Their rifles laid in between their bodies and Austal picked one up before emptying ammunition out of the corpse's pockets. A pair of sidearms were procured, one of which was given to Fowler. To his delight he found some frag grenades too. Both Spartans felt slightly guilty about graverobbing in a sense, but looting for ammunition to stay alive was enough to hopefully justify the act.

* * *

After descending a few decks down to S-Deck using the less congested stairs, dodging enemy activity, they approached one of the entrances, which was unfortunately guarded by two knight battlewagons and a swarm of crawlers.

Priming frags, they tossed them at the feet of the crawlers, which exploded to take them out. The knights growled and fired their scattershots back. Their hardlight projectiles hit the floor and bounced up, narrowly missing Fowler's shoulder with his new tattoo.

"Oh thanks a lot fucktard," He snapped at the construct, "I just got that one!"

The knights response was another loud screech before it suddenly jumped into the air with its sword held high and a white glare emanating from the point.

Just as it arced down towards the two unarmored Spartans, a pair of railgun shots pierced the air, striking it as it descended. By the time it landed at their feet, it was nearly half disintegrated.

At the entrance, a pair of gray Spartans held their recently discharged weapons and turned to its partner.

The knight fired its scattershot, which just grazed the shields of Eon's saviors when Fowler and Austal broke their position and fired everything they had at it. The bullets of brass and hardlight crashed against its strong shield as one of the Spartans primed a grenade to lob at its feet.

The explosive set off and the knight jerked before it vanished in amber dust.

"Thanks for the save," Fowler headed up to the entrance to greet the Spartan.

One stepped forward to give a saluting gesture, "No trouble. Fireteam Tower at your service. Let's move, before more of them show up!"

"We need to regroup with our team," Austal said, "Our armor is inside."

"Right this way. We got almost the entire civilian population inside since it's being the most heavily defended right now."

Two other members of Tower covered their exit as they came in the center and sure enough, the entire floor of the S-Deck was obscured by hundreds of civilians. Scientists, consultants and they even saw the group of cheerleaders that had come from the Colonial Gravball League to entertain stationed personnel.

"They about to see some Spartans and how they get in their armor," Tower Lead chuckled, "It's an experience they'll probably get to witness only once,"

"And we're the ones putting on the show,"

With aggravated sighs, the two Spartans of Eon moved right to their armor bays on the top deck.

"I honestly hope the ONI censors block this out," Fowler grumbled as the techs beckoned them forward and the arms of the bays activated to meet them.

"Especially that one," He moved his head towards one civilian who was using his compad to record the process.

There were more than a thousand pairs of eyes watching their armor assembly as it took place. Never did either of them feel more self-conscious before.

* * *

 **That's our boys putting on a show that is rarely ever shown to the public.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	9. Invasion III

**Covenant Controlled Territory**

 **February 19, 2558**

'Xiva cycled the feed over and over again.

Through his contingent, he commanded an entire legion of Covenant that was based on Requiem with a sizeable force. It wasn't handpicked by him, but he did give many of its senior leadership additional pointers on combatting humans.

While they were relatively weak individually, they proved to be resourceful, smart and hardy foes. Not to mention numerous. Eliminating a human usually meant that four more were going to take its place.

However while they were relatively easy to deal with, the new human, the Spartans were much more difficult.

No longer could he or his men charge in with energy swords raised to slaughter at a reckless abandon while their foes stood transfixed with terrified looks on their faces. Spartans were skilled in close combat and even though they remained smaller than sangheili, they were fast, agile and when they hit…it hurt a lot.

'Xiva had seen other swordsman charge blindly at a Spartan with common sense being overridden by bloodlust, only for them to sprawl on the ground because they got outmaneuvered or struck down by combined fire that broke through the brother's shielding. While he exhibited similar thirst for a Spartan to become impaled on his blade, he knew that he was not to become completely consumed by it as things could go south very fast.

So his anger began to build as he watched the feed of one of the warriors under his command leading several sangheili storm, kig-yar and many unggoy as they were dropped off onboard the _Infinity_ and pushed the humans back.

He immediately recognized the team they were engaging; Eon.

It confirmed his suspicions that there was a fifth Spartan and it was just ever so slightly smaller than the others. Must be a female.

His men worked together, trying to keep the lesser species alive long enough to provide aid, but many of the unggoy were rather rattled and the kig-yar were blown apart by grenades or human railguns.

Then his sangheili began to fall and things just went haywire in just a few seconds.

As his elites became the Spartans' newest victims, the unggoy had all thrown down their weapons, completely dumbstruck of what to do when they were without a leader. Some of them ran off and the rest ignited plasma grenades, rushing forward in a suicide attempt to take down their foe.

Amateurish.

The lead unggoy was cut down by pistol fire and the others behind him had no time to react before his grenades detonated, killing his fellow kamikazes and setting off a subsequent chain reaction.

When he first viewed it his eyes gleamed with anticipation to see if the attempt had actually worked. Oddly, the spy camera on an Ossona who was with the group and killed in the crossfire was still functioning. The white glare from the grenade explosions cleared and all five Spartans, now joined by the tinier ODSTs remained standing and talking among themselves as they proceeded forward for the next threat.

'Xiva felt no remorse at the death of his men he had sent off to invade _Infinity_ and he had already known that they were going to be no match if they happened to run into Eon. Yet still, he felt anger creeping into his body. He did put some level of effort into their training and cleaning up some of their sloppy habits, only for them to get cut down like grass.

Which was precisely why he observed them in the few minutes of confrontation between the two sides to observe their fighting styles and how they worked as a team. While his men were mere cannon fodder for this assessment, he wanted to be guaranteed that his other men would not make the same mistake as them.

The only problem that he saw with trying to bring them down after watching the recording was that they had no primary fighting style. He had thought the best way to bring Eon down was to attack their weakness and he had spent some time from multiple views of the feed to watch how each member engaged the Covenant.

Now he was less than certain that he could attack the flaws. They moved seamlessly to compliment one another and more sparse shootouts between them caused their camouflage to kick in again and fade from sight. Any one of the Covenant that was by themselves were easily picked off. In one of the feeds, an Eon Spartan just hid right in the open, prompting a veteran sangheili commander to pursue him into a corner. The Spartan reappeared out of thin air right behind to twist his head in two directions.

He couldn't attack them head on because they didn't just specialize in one thing. Every member specialized in everything to a degree.

If a sangheili was capable of smiling, he would have done a devilish grin to himself.

Then again, he had brought his troops onto their turf and fought them on their terms. What if he could bring them to their knees? There had to be something that he could exploit as a weakness. Maybe not a combat one, but rather throw an unexpected variable into the mix?

'Xiva stood up from his chair and grabbed a spherical mapping device of Requiem off a shelf in his quarters. Maybe the cartographers had something that could be of use.

* * *

Two hours later, their phantom crested the skies above the planet. 'Xiva and a few other similarly armored sangheili stood by his sides, clutching plasma rifles and traditional metal blades.

Only one of the elites was not dressed like the others. In the bulky ranger armor, Kafth was his loyal second-in command and trusted friend. The two of them had met when they were shipped to _High Charity_ to serve in the Covenant from their homeworld on Suban. While they both were proficient warriors, Kafth's hunger for action and thrill from combat landed him in the Rangers while 'Xiva pursued commanding. Upon the Covenant's collapse, they both quickly found work with Jul 'Mdama and despite neither trusting the other when they had first met, their resentment towards humanity was all that was keeping them from betrayal.

Kafth had studied the footage of the combat as well and he had come to the same conclusion; there was no way to take them down outright. He did exhibit particular interest to the one that had given his friend quite the ferocious beating, first saying that he didn't seem so tough. Then watching his speed and knifework just happened to change his opinion.

So over the course of the day, they had set a new plan in motion.

While Jul had his own agenda for the invasion, both 'Xiva and Kafth had used it both to test their adversary's prowess as well as confirm that they were not on Requiem to interfere with them. He believed that without solid information, enemies had a knack of being at the right place in the right time to interrupt and dismantle.

It wasn't long before their destination suddenly opened fire on them. Their pilot quickly engaged the craft into a dive as most of the human missiles tried to follow and subsequently lost the aid of their guidance systems, causing them to crash to the ground in red fireballs. This was followed by the drumbeats of more anti-aircraft fire.

Their pilot engaged the phantom's primary cannon and several volleys of the plasma explosive bolts silenced the triple-A.

"Let's move!" 'Xiva shouted to his men when the bay doors noiselessly opened.

They were in a desert area with a deepwater river at the edge. On the side of the banks was a white and gray building with a perimeter fence and a couple batteries of guns that were smoldering and half melted. The humans' rather primitive architecture irked 'Xiva.

Standing at the front of the base, they all charged in. Several human guards had already rushed out to the base's entrance and fired upon their new foes.

Like he did against Eon, 'Xiva continued to stride forward, much to their surprise, ignoring the bullets as they uselessly dissipated against his energy shielding. Even had it overloaded, his armor was impervious to everything but their highest caliber weapons.

His men took the base in a matter of minutes and they quickly shut down all distress calls to the Infinity, not that they would be responding with all the trouble they were dealing with presently.

However he had given explicit directions not to harm any of what humans called "scientists", they typically were unarmed with white robes and usually the ones that the people with guns were trying to protect.

Now with all the guards dead, Kafth had herded the remaining dozen or so scientists into the main command center of the facility, a place that said "Carnegie Base" painted on the walls. They all seemed rather frightened and whispering amongst themselves.

"Who is in charge here?" 'Xiva had studied the English language, thus he had adequate knowledge of the primary means of human communication.

Nobody dared to move, so he unsheathed his blade, "Answer me!"

One of the humans in a white jacket timidly raised his hand.

'Xiva wanted to laugh at their terror, they were even worse than he thought. However he remained stoic and nodded to his partner.

Kafth rather roughly hauled the gray-haired man to his feet and shoved him over.

"Use communication terminal," He demanded, "Contact _Infinity_ ,"

It seemed that this particular scientist was accustomed to being under duress, it still didn't keep him from a nervous reply, " _Infinity_ is being jammed by the Covenant,"

"Nonsense," He snarled, causing the human to jump to his amusement, "Communications will get through,"

The man hit a few buttons at the terminal and sure enough, the feed connected to the large holotank in the center of the room.

"This is Infinity Command," A gold projection of a man in pilot gear answered, "We are currently in condition red due to hostile incursion within the ship,"

"Listen here!" 'Xiva strode up to the podium, "We have your human science team and we will kill them with great pleasure unless you send someone to come and rescue them! Do send someone worthy so we can kill them for vengeance. Like Eon."

The transmission cut out when he struck the entire table with his sword, gashing the entire device in half.

"So now what?" Kafth asked in sangheili.

"I will take these humans aboard _Pragmatist_ ," 'Xiva said, "Make sure someone keeps us informed that 'Mdama does not know of our whereabouts. You and two of our brothers stay here to engage Eon. If they do not arrive within the next day, take a phantom and meet us at the rendezvous point."

"Three of us against all of them is suicide!" He angrily pointed out, "You saw how easily they defeated the Covenant, what do you think three of us will fare out?"

"You are not to engage to kill. Retreat when they arrive and pursue as we will be leaving a very striking message for them."

"As you wish brother, although I still believe that this is cowardly."

"It is also important to live to fight them another day. There will be a time where our names may be spoken with terror on human tongues across the galaxy," The former Field Master raised his sword high above his head with other members doing the same. The tip was just inches from the ceiling, "More so than the Covenant! We shall make this day one step closer to that goal and ensure our supremacy against humanity goes unchallenged forever!"

* * *

 **Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. As for me, I'm still addicted to playing Halo 5's Warzone and I absolutely cannot wait for the new firefight mode!**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	10. Invasion IV

**UNSC** _ **Infinity**_ **in orbit over Requiem**

 **February 19, 2558**

The final group of prometheans stood defiant as Eon closed in on them at the edge of the hangar. A trio of crawlers popped with a few rifle shots and the two knight commanders accompanying them folded their bodies inward to fade in a blue light.

"Watch your six," Lusana kept his weapon forward, leading the group as the active camouflage came online.

Keeping an eye on his motion tracker, everyone except Pine crept forward around the giant mammoth platform in hopes of finding and flushing it out.

"I got a visual on one of them," Fowler reported, "Over at its port side. Careful Bailey it looks like it's waiting for you."

"Roger that," She shuffled her weapons around, taking out her sidearm, "Ready,"

"Go!"

Bailey shot out of cover, heading into open space and drilling the entire clip of her magnum into the knight commander. The shots splattered against its shielding and it hissed, bringing up its incineration cannon.

"Gotcha!" Lusana had used the distraction to climb on the mammoth's top cabin with an M41 rocket launcher in hand. He took a moment to target the mechanical beast and fired, sending an explosive warhead right down.

It sensed the incoming attack, but still had no time to react when his aim hit its mark and caused the knight to explode in its fiery orange dust.

The second knight commander had sensed its partners death and suddenly appeared over the other side of the mammoth. It targeted Lusana and fired.

"Shit!" Eon Lead jumped from his position on top over the edge, falling down and summersaulting in mid-air before engaging his armor thrusters to cushion his descent.

"Suppressing fire!" Everyone could hear Fowler's SAW chattering somewhere else. Burst fire from Austal's battle rifle went in conjunction. They heard another incineration cannon shot before Marcus screamed at Fowler to move. They all breathed relief when they heard the machine gun again.

Just a few moments later, Lusana, Bailey and Pine came around the mammoth to see Fowler and Austal standing alert with weapons raised and shields overloaded. Sparks danced across their armor for a moment before they glowed bright yellow to begin recharging.

"All clear?"

"Affirmative," Fowler ejected an empty clip from his SAW and slapped it on his back, "All hostiles cleared."

"Commander Palmer, this is Spartan Lusana. Our sector of _Infinity_ is secured."

"Good work Eon," Palmer sounded distracted over the comms, "Other fireteams are reporting similarly too. It seems that the Covenant and Promethean attack is weakening. I'm designating several of us to finish off the stragglers."

"Roger that."

"Return to S-Deck for debriefing Eon, I'd like to have a word with each of you."

* * *

Commander Palmer, minus her helmet paced impatiently at the operations table when the doors to S-Deck opened, allowing Eon to stride in. Their helmets were off and in their hands and weapons minus sidearms, were handed off to the master armorer before heading up. Each one looked weary and tired from battling Covenant and Prometheans for the last six hours.

"Commander," Lusana began and all five Spartans saluted, their fatigue vanished in an instant at that point.

"Eon," She returned the gesture, "Nice work as usual. We have the rest of the boarding parties cornered and we should finish them off within the hour. Ops are going to resume planetside once Captain Lasky gives the green light."

"Good to hear. We'll volunteer for cleanup duty after we get some chow,"

"Smart thinking but that's not why I called you here." She headed over to the holotank, to bring up an image of a three sectioned building that was built alongside a riverbank, "We had to pull security teams from several of our research installations to aid in repelling the hostiles. I checked in with each of the facilities and they've all responded that all personnel were accounted for."

"So which one didn't respond," Fowler knew where this was going.

"Carnegie Base," Palmer answered, "They were the third base I hailed and have done so every half hour, but still have not received anything. Camera uplinks are down, so I'm assuming that it went under attack while we were boarded."

"Covies could have used the attack on _Infinity_ as a distraction," Pine pointed out, "But Carnegie hardly had any of its Marines sent out, yet we're assuming it's an attack."

"You saying that they attacked Carnegie for a reason?" Eon noticed that Palmer immediately sounded irritated when Ross had mentioned his theory.

"Maybe. There were a lot of defenseless bases that are in their radar yet they still chose this one."

"Either way," The Commander put her hands on her hips, "My top fireteams are planetside finishing off the missions they were originally assigned before the attack. Tyrant has authorized the mission before you are to be reassigned."

"Understood."

"Good," Once again she seemed distracted…almost infuriated at something. "Go get something to eat and report to your designated assignment hangar in an hour."

* * *

After grabbing a meal in the mess hall, Eon allowed their techs to briefly make some repairs before arming themselves again and heading down to the surface. There was debris of Covenant ships and aircraft all around. Beside humanity's largest ship were several of its frigate escorts as they controlled other pelicans combing the wreckage for salvage. Broadsword fighters flitted around, patrolling for any survivors.

It was a half hour flight when the pilot informed them they would be touching down just a mile north of Carnegie to avoid catching the eye of the air defenses.

"Thanks for the ride," Lusana called out as the team bounded off and split-second secured the LZ.

"No problem," The pilot drawled as she powered down the engines, "We'll remain on station here and fly on over once you've given an all clear."

"Copy that."

As the white buildings came in sight over the hilly horizon, Lusana marked a point up top with a few to its entrance. Pine flashed his light and broke off from the group, setting up his nest.

"We're going to enter through the rear entrances and restore power to the security feed."

With their backs pressed against the face of the building, Lusana stacked up by the door and twisted the handle, yanking it open.

Fowler went in first, followed by Austal as they cleared the room. The other two Spartans walked in with weapons raised, despite their motion trackers remaining empty of hostiles.

"Room's clear," Eon Three called out with Four echoing.

"Let's move to central control."

The sealed walkway over to the main building was a massive tube window and wide enough for three people to walk abreast. Down below was the small barracks that the security team was stationed at, including a motor pool. Just out of curiosity, Bailey scanned the two warthogs at the motor pool. Both engines were cold.

Since their arrival, there were no outgoing distress calls or no formal hailing of their arrival.

And no sign of any human. It was like they were erased from existence without a trace of their whereabouts.

"Spartan Lusana to Carnegie Base," Eon Lead repeated, "Does anyone copy?"

Silence.

"Too bad they forgot to leave a notice that they went away for lunch," Fowler quipped over the comms, "The auxillary power station is online. Air defenses are rebooting now."

True to his word, there were several blocklike missile batteries stationed around the facility that popped up out from their mounts and began rotating around, scanning for threats.

"At least we got that up," Pine said, "It's still reading an all clear here and I've accessed the schematics for Carnegie. I've got three unidentified contacts in the northwest corner of the base. They seem to know you are there and are headed in your direction." He stared at the blips, "I think they are going to try and get the drop on you. Approaching at your nine, towards the west."

"We'll be ready."

Austal automatically moved in front and Fowler stood in the center, with his machine gun ready.

Both Spartans suddenly cursed, seeing the anomaly at the same time and diving out of the way as a steady stream of plasma fire erupted from the end of the corridor.

"Cover fire!" Lusana shouted as he and Bailey sent down short bursts.

The three elites' shields shimmered as the bullets uselessly struck them and they remained defiant, unwilling to cover. They let out irritated growls and fired back erratically. Still, the strength of them surprised Eon.

"These guys have overpowered shields," Fowler grumbled, letting off another round and in disbelief as it shrugged it right off.

The lead one moved in front of the second that had a ranger harness and gestured to the other one.

At once, they began to quickly fall back, shooting stray shots at the Spartans.

"Permission to pursue?" Austal asked.

"Let's go," Lusana gestured to Fowler, "Bailey, stay here and pull whatever you can on the databanks. I want to know why the Covenant were here."

"I'm on it,"

Tony led the other two Spartans through where the elites had retreated off to, but his mind was swimming with questions, the bottom of which was why they were here. Even bigger of a mystery was why were they retreating so quickly? Sangheili were creatures of honor and turning tail from an adversary was considered rather shameful.

Unless they were planning a trap.

"Watch your six," He automatically warned them, "We don't know why they ran off so fast."

"Never seen split-lips do that before," Fowler remarked, "And the fact that they were wearing similar armor to the ones we encountered on the cruiser. Definitely not a coincidence, they're spec-ops."

"And they take a fuckload of bullets to even drop their shields," Austal added. They came to another intersection and an exit that was still opened, facing the main facility's entrance. It was recently used.

"Hear that?" Fowler cocked his head inside his helmet, "I hear a phantom."

Their augmented ears quickly picked it up too, the low droning sound of the dropship's engines was faint, but there was no mistaking it.

"Must be their ride. Move!"

The three Spartans sprinted right out to see the large purple phantom rise out from the edge of the cliff. Its doors were open and the ranger that they encountered earlier was manning a plasma turret by the hatch.

Their shields flared as he peppered them from his mount and just about any returning fire from any of them was basically obsolete. It lingered around for just a moment before the fins on its stern rotated and it sped off into the distance.

Behind them, their trackers picked up two friendly tags as Bailey and Pine sprinted to the edge to regroup.

"What was that all about?" She breathlessly asked.

"I don't know," Lusana replied, sounding distant and still looking in the direction their quarry had escaped. He shook his head, "Let's just call in our backup."

* * *

An hour later, Carnegie Base was once again bustling with personnel as both scientists and marines moved crates of new supplies. Technicians were thoroughly checking most of the networks, fairly pleased that there was no malware to be found installed on their systems.

Eon stood in the facility's main hall where it was the center of the activity. Tyrant was on the holotank in full armor and a datapad in hand.

"And you're saying that the elites were just falling back when they encountered you?"

"That's an affirmative sir," Lusana scratched his head, "Fowler, Austal and I moved to pursue and they had stowed a phantom out of sight, which they used as their escape vessel."

"Are you sure it was a retreat?"

"Could've been, they did act like they were on orders to abandon the station as soon as we showed up, but at the same time, they had advanced shielding and heavy armor."

"They were overloaded after an entire clip from my SAW, but we failed to kill one since they were in such a hurry with their tails between their legs." Fowler added.

"I've received all of your recorded feeds and am sending it to ONI for analysis. This could take some time, so I'm pulling you out. Once the Cartographers from the Initiative have created sufficient data, you're going to be the first to engage these new foes in War Games."

* * *

 **So it's been a while, but here's another chapter, even though I haven't seem to have gotten any additional reviews. Anyway the biographies of Eon are now going to be on the Halo Fanon wiki where I've already started work. I don't have much done yet, but I promise more will be added including the events of this story, Venomous Honor and Crossfire as well as early backstory to further flesh out our favorite Spartan Fireteam.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	11. Newlyweds I

**Alto Valeur, Fleurdelis, New Corsica**

 **March 2, 2558**

Born on the Inner Colony of New Corsica; Spartan Marcus Austal was extremely prideful of his homeworld.

There was a rather "humble" saying about the people that was frequently sold in souvenir shops at the spaceport terminals; "There are two kinds of people. Those that are New Corsican and those that wish they were,"

While it was a harmless saying that played on the thirty-five million inhabitants of the second planet in the Ensee Systeam, it was a subtle brag on the part of those who longed to visit or even one day live there. For some, it solidified that while the climate and lifestyle were very much attractive, the people were just as pompous as they were humble. That was a real turn-off for some.

Austal was dressed in a blue and gold shirt with brown cargo shorts as he stepped off the ground tarmac of Alto Valeur's airport and was greeted with a rush of air-conditioned goodness.

He looked back with a grin on his face as he slipped an arm around an auburn haired woman that giggled at his touch.

"Welcome home babe,"

"Thank you," Her words were just enough to turn his heart into jelly and she leaned up to gently kiss him on the lips, "You know how much I love surprises."

"Our honeymoon may be over, but I think we'll do fine trading Maui for Alto Valeur."

His newly wed wife, Gabrielle Austal smiled up at him, "I concur."

They headed out of the main terminal where there was a line for immigration that they had to join. Fortunately, the staff was very quick in customs of the passengers before them and soon enough, it was their turn.

The officer was a portly man that sat behind the desk in which between arriving passengers could pass through to the baggage claim section.

"Passports," He bluntly said.

Austal had no civilian ID, but his UNSC Career Service dossier was sufficient. Gabrielle handed him her own and he slid them both onto the desk.

The officer eyed them warily and set them inside a black scanning box.

"Mister Austal and Miss Addison?" Again with the bluntness.

"It's actually Mrs. Austal," Gabrielle had to stifle a giggle and held up her hand to show the silvery diamond ring on her left hand.

"Congratulations. Please follow the instructions on the panel in front,"

Austal tapped it once and scrolled through the few questions. A lot of it had definitely changed since he was last here. Then again; it was for a military operation so no customs were required. The Manon Act questions were one constant, banning the importation of invasive species.

He did have to openly admit that he was in possession of a firearm. While his own personal Acheron A9C3 was not upsized for MJOLNIR armor, it was an ideal concealed carry weapon that he kept inside his home for defense. That was turned in a few days before and kept in the armories over on Turbin Island. Overall, the questions took him about five minutes to complete.

"Thank you," The officer said after he received and scanned the information. He must've not found anything suspicious, "You can go right to the arrivals area now. Welcome home."

"Thanks," He gestured in between the stalls and allowed his wife through before following suit. As they left the customs area, he saw another party using a retinal scanner. Newly implemented by Transport New Corsica, it was capable of preventing those deported from the colony from re-entering under forged documents.

Since Marcus and Gabrielle were natural New Corsican born citizens, they were exempt from that practice.

"Lots of questions they asked," She remarked as they spotted their bags off the claim and headed out into the arrivals lobby, a large room with a warmly lit ceiling that shared ticketing counters for outbound passengers. Both had packed one bag each since Marcus was headed to the Hawaiian Islands for his honeymoon right after Eon had been debriefed in Sydney. She met him at Honolulu's airport and they spent a full week of pure relaxation and bliss, traveling to three of the islands.

If only all leaves were like this. Austal knew that now; he had much more to look forward to.

"There was a political shakedown and a lot of security concerns that the UNSC has been taking to prevent another Venom uprising," He had to keep his own involvement in taking down the rebellion secret until recently. "So they're ramping up immigration processes, funding more into the colonial defense force and the UNSC is moving some of its Navy over here. The 37th is also moving to Alto Valeur."

"So that means?"

"Yeah, this is going to be our new home."

"I can't wait," She hugged him and moved their bags in front. "What about our cars?"

"I managed to move most of our stuff to our new place thanks to the Commander, but I have to stop at the base first. I'd like you to come too."

* * *

The arrivals section was a long part of a road where parties could meet up and head into the city after picking up their passengers. Cars, buses and trucks moved on the roads and the sidewalk was full of smiling people greeting one another with friendly hugs and kisses.

The couple slipped on their sunglasses and Austal waved to one of the large olive drab buses that had the UNSC logo on the front. Along the sides it read; "Turbin Island Shuttle Service"

It halted in front and Austal presented his UNSC ID, as only servicemen and their families were allowed to use the free service.

"Where to son?" The older man asked. His hat showed that he was a veteran of the early 2500s conflicts, most likely Insurrection.

"SDG Base."

"Spartan?" He stood up shakily, "You keep getting younger every year."

"Sir?"

He removed his hat and slowly raised his right hand in a salute, "Your kind saved me and my entire platoon twice, once during the Insurrection and another against the Covenant on Earth. " The doors to the bus were shut and they pulled out of the airport, headed onto the northbound highway.

Buildings rose up at the Alto Valeur skyline and traffic was rather light. The sun peeked through the clouds occasionally and shone brightly down on the ground casting a beautiful golden glow on the Kadar Ocean. At this point, the highway stretched out just along the coastline of a massive beach where crowds were playing in the surf. Sailboats with colorful designs were further out in the water. The view of the beaches was breathtaking.

All while the driver was telling the story of how the Spartans had saved his life while they were deployed to Cancun on Earth's Mexico and were nearly overrun, only to be saved by the legendary Blue Team's intervention.

While Austal had never met any of the members mentioned, he had always given the Spartan IIs and IIIs a lot of deserved respect.

"You sure got a lot to live up to son," The driver said, "At the same time though, it's a good feeling that the next generation is here to defend humanity."

"In these times, we need all the help we can get."

By now on the east side, a massive island came into view that had several buildings and the clearing of a large airstrip. More brown and gray hangars lined the side and a tall control tower was close to the other side.

It wasn't long before the bus was exiting onto a bridge that spanned from the main area to the island. Traffic had significantly decreased and there were covered stations preceding the structure.

After a brief exchange at the station, the vehicle rolled across the bridge. Now, there were only a few cars that were coming or going to the island. The checkpoints definitely thinned out the flow.

The bus pulled into the main road which began to branch off, first into uniform looking houses that had a white and gray trim. A black slate roof fit on top and each yard had a tree that was neatly kept at close to the same height. The entrance had a large overhanging sign which said "WELCOME TO TURBIN NAVAL BASE" in glowing green letters.

They kept going past houses until larger buildings lined the streets. Gabrielle could see a couple grocers, a school, movie theater and small shopping center. She began to wonder, would they be living on a base like this now?

Her thoughts were interrupted when the bus finally stopped at the entrance of a large building. Unlike the others that were box-shaped, this one was slightly smaller and had an oblique appearance with a silvery smooth surface.

"Thanks for the ride," Marcus said as he slid his credit ship into the miniature slot.

"Good luck son and thank you for your service," The driver made sure both of them were off before turning around the corner, presumably back to the airport.

"C'mon," The Spartan took his wife's hand and together they strode up to the front entrance.

"What are we here for?"

"I'm familiarizing myself with my new workplace, but I also came to do something for you."

"For me?"

"Yes," Through the lobby's entrance one of the technicians pointed to a hallway on their right. They went through and entered a long room from a heavy door with several lanes and tables. Many safety warning signs were mounted on the walls inside and close to the entrance. The one that really stood out was "Wearing MJOLNIR Armor in the standard firing range is prohibited"

Across from the long range, there were several large lockers that had meshlike doors. Using a retinal scanner, he pulled one of the hatches open and examined the array of weapons.

MA5s, M20 SMGs, BR series both 55 and 85 and the M6H2, the newest in the longstanding handgun series made by Misriah Armory.

However Austal instead took out another handgun, an Acheron A9.

This was his civilian version that was dropped off when he was going to move and his personal one for defense of his home.

Gabrielle almost felt a little out of place when coming in the facility, first off, she had to wear a guest badge and second, there were other Spartans in the building and they were just _tall_.

Out of his armor, Marcus was six-foot three, which was five inches taller than her five-foot ten frame. Seeing some of the others present made her own hubby look kinda smaller.

"You're going to teach me how to shoot?" She was a little nervous.

"Yeah," He went over to the table and began quickly shuffling rounds from an ammunition box into a clip, "We're living in a very peaceful neighborhood on a peaceful colony, but you know as well as I do that danger is always going to be present." Laying the weapon on the lane, he looked back at her,  
"I need to know you can protect yourself. I know you're well capable of getting out of holds, I taught you, but not everything is going to involve hand-to-hand."

Marcus handed her a pair of safety goggles and ear protectors, "Put these on," At the same time, he slipped on some himself. "Can you hear me okay?"

She nodded.

"Good. This is an Acheron A9 series handgun, it's a civilian version, different than the one I use while in the service. It has twenty six working parts, three more than an M6 and I will show you later on how to take apart and reassemble one." He picked it up, gesturing for her to step in the lane. Although hesitant, she obliged, gliding her hand over the smooth surface of the weapon.

All while Marcus was really enjoying how damn sexy his wife looked. Dressed in a black tank top with shorts and wearing safety equipment while holding a gun. Sometimes he was wondering how he ended up so lucky.

Gabrielle loaded and turned it around to closely examine it. She lifted it up, surprise on her face at presumably the weight.

"Wow, it's a lot heavier than I thought."

"It's hardly noticeable when you've held one forever." He moved beside her, "Here's your safety mechanism. This little button here will prevent it from firing unless it is disengaged. Always remember that you have to take it off if you need to shoot and opposite that, do not remove the safety on the gun unless you intend to use it." His eyes met hers and made sure she was paying close attention, "Clear?"

She nodded again.

"Good. Now you can insert the magazine and thumb off the safety. You will hold it in your dominant hand, which I know is the right one like myself."

It slid into the receiver with a metallic click and with a little bit of effort, she managed to rack the slide. Austal hit a few buttons on a pad in their lane and a red holographic display of a man-shaped target appeared in the center.

Moving behind her, he put his arms over hers, gently adjusting her grip. She was very glad that he was behind and couldn't see her blushing face.

"Okay, you're set." He confirmed, "I'll have my hands just behind yours so that I can control some of the recoil. The gun is going to kick and it will surprise you, but you'll get used to it."

"Can I shoot it?"

"Yes."

Slowly her finger tightened on the trigger and without warning, the pistol barked, firing a single shot.

The sound of it going off had Gabrielle freaked out and the surprise made her gasp and jump. Had it not been for her husband's help on the weapon, the recoil would've tossed it right out of her hands. At the blink of an eye, the chamber opened and dispensed a small brass casing about the size of her thumb on the restricted side of the range.

Unfortunately, Austal couldn't help but laugh out loud; even when he saw that the bullet completely missed its mark.

"I'm sorry," He apologized between stifles, "I shouldn't be laughing,"

"You shouldn't," Gabrielle sternly said, "That was not funny,"

"Sorry," He said once more just before putting his arms around hers, "First shot's always going to be a wild one. Now you have a little bit of knowledge of what to expect. The A9's a predictable weapon, so as long as you keep learning on how it behaves, you'll be able to shoot it with nearly zero kick."

"I want to know."

"Practice. A lot of it."

She fired a second bullet, still a little shocked at the popping sound and the sudden lurch, but this time she was controlling much of the recoil. The second shot hit the "man" in the arm.

"Good shot," He couldn't help but really compliment on her accuracy, whether it was her sudden adapted skill or just pure luck.

"I was aiming for the head,"

"Always aim for center mass babe," He lessoned, "While a shot to the head may be fatal for just about anything, it is always better to aim for center mass. Chest, torso, shoulders."

"Groin?" She set the gun down and wiggled her eyebrows rather suggestively.

The interjection had caught him off guard, but he nodded, "Sure, if that works for you."

Gabrielle picked up the gun and like he did last time, he moved behind her to help.

"No," She protested, "I want to shoot on my own this time."

He stepped back and headed towards the lane next to her. In his hand, he had another gun as well as more clips of ammunition. She kept shooting the target until the gun was out of ammo and hit the magazine release, placing it aside and loading a fresh one in.

"Not bad," He said when the hologram showed that seven of her eleven shots hit the chest area and one was in the head. "I guess I accomplished my mission,"

"My mission is now to shoot as good as you," She proudly declared.

"You're going to be here all day then," Austal fluidly loaded a clip into his A9 and fired all fifteen rounds in rapid succession. Gabrielle gasped, it had all happened in less than five seconds and every single shot was perfectly placed dead center in his target's head. While he was firing he anticipated the incoming kick with such precision that his hands hardly moved through the entire process.

"Mister Austal, can we shoot some more?"

Marcus smiled before moving over to kiss his wife straight on the lips, "Of course Misses Austal,"

* * *

From the entrance of the firing range, Brett Fowler was curious to hear the sound of pistols being fired in the shooting range. The base was still relatively empty and many Spartans in the 37th had yet to even see their new garrison.

Peering through the glass door, he saw Marcus Austal and his lovely wife Gabrielle sharing a kiss right before standing in succeeding lanes and opening fire at two different targets. They both reloaded and shot again. He couldn't help but plaster a big grin on his face.

Looking down at his own M6, which he was going to go and shoot himself, he decided against it, leaving the couple blissfully unaware of who was watching.

"I guess we'll have to go another day huh?" He gave the gun an affectionate pat and headed out of the building.

* * *

 **Wow, it's been nearly a month since I last updated. Hope nobody went anywhere now that I have all summer to keep writing. The action's going to take a bit of a downturn right now and the Spartans (specifically Austal) are going to have some time as civilians for a few chapters.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	12. Newlyweds II

**Alto Valeur, Fleurdelis, New Corsica**

 **March 2, 2558**

It was getting closer to the evening when Austal and Gabrielle finished practicing at the shooting range. His warthog quickly exited the base and they headed back onto the Alonso Highway that circled Fleurdelis. The roadware was equipped and he took his hands off the wheel as the artificial driver took over, speeding up and changing lanes. Every now and then, Marcus enjoyed driving with himself in control of the car, even with roadware enabled, but once the open highway was present, free of crowded traffic congestion and the need to constantly jump in and out of lanes, the speed limits were much faster with dire consequences of accidents.

That was a time when having a second pair of hands on the wheel was much appreciated. In fact, when driving on the high-speed freeways and certain streets; it was illegal to drive with it disabled.

"So where are we going now Spartan?" Gabrielle asked, stretching out in the passenger seat.

"We're going home."

"We don't even have a house," She protested, "We sold our place in San Diego and you're telling me that we have our own place already?"

"Yep," He chuckled at the surprise on her face, "I think you'll like it. It's basically ready for us to move in, but I think you will still make some adjustments."

The highway curved back westward where they could see the waterfront on their left side. On the right was downtown Alto Valeur, a collection of silvery blue skyscrapers in unique and extravagant designs. The sun was beginning to vanish on the western horizon and it already cast a beautiful orange and pink glow, surrounded by a fading blue. Some dark clouds hung low in the sky, creating a picturesque atmosphere.

"Don't tell me you got an apartment in the six hundred Stratosphere!"

He chuckled, "Oh goodness no. We don't make enough to pay for half a month!" As he said that, the building came into view. "Besides, I don't think you want a place where the bed is the size of a cage boxing ring."

* * *

It was one of the tallest skyscrapers in downtown Alto Valeur, going nearly a hundred stories high. The most exclusive residential building on the continent and possibly the planet; there were more than a thousand lavish and prestigious apartments inside with each individual tenant in a uniquely designed space where some could be twice the size of an even wealthier New Corsican home. From the very top floors, people could literally look down at a panoramic view of the entire city and miles on end.

Celebrities, business tycoons, affluent politicians, sports stars and many more extremely wealthy people made this as their primary residences. Some vacation businesses even made their owned suites as destination packages, since Alto Valeur was another one of the ideal honeymoon destinations, the chance to spend an entire vacation right after marriage in possibly the most famous building on Fleurdelis was a once in a lifetime experience.

Residents had an enormous garage just at the base where their own vehicle's roadware would drop them off at the entrance, the car would park itself in its assigned spot and the occupant could access one of four hundred lifts that ran on the inside of the building. These dynamic moveable elevators could move both medially and laterally through a nexus of pathways that delivered them virtually right in front of their home. They were managed by an AI for efficiency and to reduce chances of accidents. Every residence had access to a lift terminal less than thirty feet from their front door. Even on a busy day at the upper floors, the wait and travel time in or out of the building could be less than three minutes.

The highest levels had a promenade that featured award winning clubs, penthouses, restaurants, spas and an enormous infinity pool. At the western section was a large landing platform for private aircraft and a hangar for tenants that could afford the ridiculous fees of keeping them there. Although there were plenty of shopping options in nearby Prais Frais and downtown, the five star hotel at the bottom along with the skypark at the building's top featured a number of popular boutiques.

Security was not spared either; the operator of the building ran a company-sized armed staff that was both visible and undercover, protecting its occupants nonstop around the clock. They were armed with enough firepower to combat anything from a lone gunman to an invading Covenant legion. These men and women were elite fighters and usually veterans with virtually flawless records to fit very specific criteria. Even battle-hardened Marines could find themselves rather uneasy when applying for a vacant position in the Stratosphere's security staff.

600 Stratosphere apartments were notoriously difficult to get, even for more wealthy individuals. There was an infamous waiting list that had started when the building was being constructed, which subsequently had more than ten thousand applicants seeking a prestigious residence inside the tower. Many played dirty; resorting to wrangling, bribing and manipulating zealously and feuds lasting for generations. Although the building was constructed nearly a century ago in 2462, some of the original individuals who had staked a claim on the waiting list had yet to obtain their turn for a first offer and the average waiting time for a new applicant could be up to sixty years. Therefore it was not uncommon for them to place or change their hold onto their offspring or next of kin.

"It's like gambling in a real estate form," Austal remarked as they passed an exit that led onto the very busy Montre Way with the main access to the Stratosphere.

The suite lease for a month was said to be more than what some earned in their lifetimes, which increased as it headed to the higher floors. It was typically very big news when one of the apartments was on the open market and eager bidders would pour in offers moments after the first done by the successive person on the waiting list.

"It would be a dream come true," Gabrielle glanced back dreamily at the tower before Austal continued north.

* * *

The highway headed up the east coast where there were more highrise buildings that lined the beaches. This was the Kadaria and Ayunean districts, the primary tourist area with plenty of hotels, shopping and nightlife. On average it attracted more than thirteen million visitors annually.

Along the highway, he exited and began driving west, heading up the gradually rising hills alongside the majestic Montagne Sereno. They kept driving up when the homes began to get larger and the properties became more and more expensive.

"Where are we going now?"

"Home. It's this way."

Turning into a gate that slid open, they entered the neighborhood named "Estates at the Point" and drove down the street, stopping at the second intersection with the houses lining the side that had a view of the coast.

He stopped at a single story California style home with her car parked in the front driveway.

"Welcome home love,"

Taking her hand and leading up to the entrance just on the right side of a stone path, it was thrown open before they had reached the door.

Gabrielle's best friend Madeline was not shy about openly flirting with men and Marcus was no exception. Although it annoyed her even when he was already married, it evolved into more of a teasing type. Behind her was Kate, another childhood friend that was less extroverted than her long haired blonde sidekick.

Madeline squealed and practically jumped into her best friend's arms with both of them laughing.

"I can't believe you're getting your dream house!" She exclaimed.

"Dream house?" Gabrielle looked back at her husband.

He couldn't help but thinly smile, "Madeline helped me out a lot. Everything from your dream layout and location. You think I picked Alto Valeur as our home just by coincidence?" Gesturing inside, he put an arm around his wife's shoulder, ushering both inside.

"Hang on," Kate stopped the newlyweds before they crossed the threshold, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?" They perplexedly glanced over.

"You know," She curled her arms as if cradling something large.

"Oh yes," With a squeal of surprise from his wife, Marcus scooped her up, opening the door and carrying her through the front, kissing her through the whole time. He set her down to the applause of her two best friends.

"You two are soo romantic!" Madeline gushed, causing both of them to merely smile in a combination of both humbleness and embarrassment. "C'mon, let's go see the house!"

The foyer had a higher ceiling to compensate for the slightly enlarged door (Since Austal was taller than the average New Corsican) and it branched out straight and right. Located adjacent was the "family room" a general area where guests would sit down and chat with their hosts just after arriving. From there was another room that served as a formal dining area before it led out into the kitchen. The entire floor was a smooth, sandstone tile with whitish grout.

* * *

Although he would never admit it, Marcus was nearly sold on the kitchen. It featured a three way countertop with almost enough room to prepare a four course meal at the same time. The tops were made of glassy granite in a midnight black color. There were three drawers on each of the angles facing inward and overhanging from the top were even more cupboards. Each one had a cream colored trim with a stainless steel handle and a glass panel. A five burner range and twin oven set were further down, just next to the wall.

There was a long table that was also granite close to the counter with four leather dining chairs underneath a five-light chandelier that hung directly over the dining area.

The windows were polarized, preventing either of them from looking out and Gabrielle reached for the controls.

Marcus quickly placed his hand over hers, "Not right now love. We're going to save the best for last."

The hallway to the rest of the house was in front, with two large leather sofas were behind a divider that cut off the rest of the house from the adjacent end. A holo-screen sat at the back.

Just down the hallway, the first entrance was the master bedroom. With another polarized sliding door with access to the outside, just to their left was the master bathroom.

Another holo-screen sat atop a dark wooden dresser on the right side across from a king-sized bed.

Proceeding into the bathroom, there was a huge sliding glass for a stall with four different shower heads facing different directions with distinctly separate nozzles. Twin sinks were just across from it and in the corner was another tile wall, that blocked off a doorless section that held a toilet.

There were two guest bedrooms further down the hall, one to the very end and another that was after a main bathroom on the right side. The only entrance to the left was access to the garage that could hold three cars or their equivalent of storage.

"Okay, now the outside."

Through the master bedroom, there was a small panel with a few buttons. He hit one and the pane slowly began to fade.

To give a breathtaking view of the coast. They were higher up the Montagne Sereno, still in the Lougheed sector and nearly all of the touristy Ayunean and part of Kadaria could be seen down below.

Just before the view, they stepped out onto a large concrete area with a neatly trimmed lawn and gardens of multicolored iris and zinnia flowers on the left. On the right side was a vegetable and fruit garden, some of which was already bearing product.

What was the most distinctive feature was the large pool in the middle. It was sixty feet in length and fifteen feet wide and had two ladder and two pairs of steps. One on each end and corner.

There was also a niche for a customized grill to the left of the pool. To its right was a large canopy that was backed by a few tall palm trees with a pentagonal gazebo canopy with a quartet of wicker chairs with cushions clustered around. A stone table had a firepit in the center.

Beyond the pool, the grass ended at a small barrier before it gradually declined through several large slabs of rock and ended at a fence, squaring off the neighbors' property.

"What do you think?"

"This was everything I wrote about in my dream house," Gabrielle whispered, "When I would become a model and afford my own place in Alto Valeur with a fantastic view of the ocean. It's all coming true," Before the Spartan could react, his wife seized him, hugging tightly.

"Thank you," She looked up at him, "I don't even want to know how much we're going to have to spend to keep this place."

Marcus nodded to the pool and the gorgeous star Ensee, which was making its signature daily sunset. "Our exact location, right here is why it was priced how it was."

* * *

 **I think I pretty much described my dream house. One that is totally out of my price range. Same goes for the 600 Stratosphere. It's largely based off of Star Wars' 500 Republica.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	13. Newlyweds III

**Alto Valeur, Fleurdelis, New Corsica**

 **March 3, 2558**

"New deal?" Marcus asked as they went inside another clothing boutique. Just another stop in their outdoor mall adventure in Ayunean, one of the holo-boards in the shopping center had an advertisement for a fragrance and Gabrielle was the model, dressed in dark blue lingerie holding a bottle of the product while lying down in a seductive pose with a finger gracing her lips.

"It was for two years," She was just beside him, frowning as she examined several dresses. "Not to mention someone from Blue Dawson had contacted me for a future opportunity. I hope you don't mind I'm eye candy for the public."

"Well good." He smiled at her, raising an eyebrow at the latter, "I'm glad you actually attained your dream of a modeling career."

"And I did it all for my sister. She had always wanted to be one and I feel like I fulfilled it for her,"

Marcus hugged her with one arm, "Gabs, I want you to do whatever you love. Do it because you want to, not because it was an aspiration of your sister because you will be stuck in it regardless if you like it or not. If it's not your thing, then stop modeling. You earn plenty of money with your photography career and I will continue to love and support you no matter if you choose either one or both."

"It's something I want to do," She said, determined, "And I hope you know that I will continue to love and support you as a Spartan." He felt a playful hit on his arm, "Even though you pretty much break my heart every time you leave."

"I promise every time I come back, I'll make it up to you."

"I'm just worried about the time you won't."

Clearly it was a touchy subject for her, so he decided against continuing it and they kept browsing the store. Gabrielle had gotten several different outfits and tried them on, each for several minutes. Austal enjoyed shopping with his wife, but he began to get anxious as standing around and doing nothing didn't sit well with him. Nevertheless, he maintained a patient attitude as best he could.

"That one looks really good on you," He remarked as she had tried on a strapless satin silver dress that went down just below her knees. It sparkled in the light just enough to give off a dazzling appeal.

"I wish they had one in purple," She looked at herself in the mirror and made one final adjustment, undoing the ponytail and letting her auburn hair fall out past her shoulders.

"My favorite is you in purple,"

"Oh really? So I'd look good in Covenant colors?" She teased.

When her husband didn't reply, she turned around to look behind her, seeing that he was looking elsewhere.

Then she spotted what had caught his attention.

There were three of them, probably in their late teens or maybe even twenty, not much younger than either of the Austals. They wore those trendy "fabbed" clothes, nearly uniformed apparel which was typical by entitled college brats.

One of them spotted Gabrielle and had immediately made the connection, seeing the holo-advertisement outside. He leaned over to his cohorts and whispered something, all of them smiling over whatever was said. They began to watch her as she looked over herself in the reflection.

Marcus had been observing them covertly out of the corner of his eyes, first picking up their presence by their obnoxious talking and snickering that could be heard through the entire boutique. He was very protective of his family and friends and took no chances with anybody to put his wife's safety at risk, even if he was just being paranoid. If anything, it was solidified now that she had made her way into the modeling industry and although her confidence had greatly improved; she still would quite uncomfortable without him around.

His guard went up immediately when the trio whispered something else and began to make their way over in their direction when he turned around to face them. He never said a word and gave off a penetrative stare.

He didn't have to say anything either.

All three halted in their tracks when they saw that the man accompanying the model was giving off a clear message; they were not invited any closer. He almost thought that the "leader" was sizing him up for a moment when they briefly locked eyes.

They stood opposite for about five seconds, likely thinking about if getting that autograph, photo or Chatter profile was worth confronting him. Finally, one of them had decided against it and tapped the other two, whispered something and motioned towards the exit. He caught part of it as "Spartan"

The leader quickly agreed and Marcus relaxed his posture when they turned around to hastily leave the store to avoid making a scene. He continued to watch the entrance until the boys had disappeared from sight; one would occasionally glance back at him as they departed to see if he was still watching.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, just realizing he was holding in his breath during the confrontation. Gabrielle had caught the last moments of what had happened and she thanked him with a smile, but at the same time was concerned for him. He was probably on guard as soon as they left their home. She was grateful for his protectiveness but was worried that it would tire him.

* * *

They took a run to a supermarket to stock groceries after shopping and were on the highway later that day. This time, the sky was not its usual orange and pink sunset and dark clouds loomed overhead. The moment they had gone onto the highway; fat drops of rain began to pelt the windshield of Marcus' Hog. He hit a button and the open canopy of the vehicle was replaced by windshields, just in time to save both of them from the shower.

"Thanks for what you did back there at the store," Gabrielle tenderly thanked, "Since I'm a public icon, I'm going to get a lot of attention wherever I go."

"I just want you to relax and feel comfortable wherever we go." He assured her.

"Well part of me being that way is if you're comfortable too," She looked back at the road ahead, "Do you think I should change my look? Maybe I won't be recognizable anymore,"

"You'd do that for me?"

"I don't know. I just don't want to lose you over my dream,"

"Gabs look at me," Marcus demanded, "Look at me," He repeated when she didn't respond.

Slowly, he lifted her face up until he gently gazed into her beautiful blue eyes, "You have to stop trying to appease everyone and start thinking about what Gabrielle wants. If you want to change how you look, do it because it's what YOU want."

"This sounds a lot like what you told me in the store,"

"That's because it is. You're still thinking about how everyone is going to look at you in a negative light. I'd fully believe anyone is stupid that doesn't think you're an attractive human being. You don't even have to try to please everyone, this is not the Gabrielle I fell in love with and wanted to marry."

"What about your protectiveness?"

"Gabs I'm a Spartan. Being on my guard is in my nature. It's who I am and it won't change no matter who you are or what your profession is. I've always been very protective of people close to me." He paused, "Is there anything from me that you're not getting?"

"A kiss,"

"Coming right up," He made sure to engage the roadware on autopilot before fulfilling the request just as the rain finally stopped tapping on the glass.

* * *

Marcus' heart skipped a beat when he saw a car parked on the side of their driveway. Once again, his guard went up, it didn't look familiar at all. Madeline's own convertible 2558 MLX was in the driveway.

Gabrielle sensed her husband's uneasiness and put a hand over his, "I've never seen that car,"

"Me neither," He parked the Hog right in front of the garage door and opened the glove compartment o reveal a UNSC CQC WS combat knife in a sheath. Tucking it into the side of his pants where he could quickly draw it out while remaining concealed, he stopped at her side, "Stay here."

He was halfway up the front, expecting a hostage standoff when the said girl flung open the door, jumping into his arms with an exited squeal.

"Madeline," He grunted from her crushing bear hug and jerked his head towards the unknown vehicle, "whose car is that?"

"That would be mine, even though it is a rental,"

The voice startled him and he couldn't help but form a smile on his face as he looked up.

"Uncle Richard!" He broke free of her grip and headed right up to greet the person who was the fatherlike figure to him growing up.

Richard Austal was his biological father's younger brother and his looks betrayed his age. Standing five foot eleven, he had the family normality, steel gray eyes and auburn hair neatly trimmed. His jawline was pronounced and while he had been in excellent shape, age was beginning to catch up to him. Even for a man in his mid-fifties, there was only a slight paunch to his figure.

He owned a landscaping business in San Diego for private residences, which was where Marcus was relocated to resume his life once his own parents had died.

Marcus extended his hand, which Richard promptly shook before pulling the Spartan in for a reunion hug and customary clap on the back.

"When I heard you became a Spartan, I knew you were going to be big," He gestured to him as a whole, "Just not this big!"

Another squeal, this time from an older woman came from inside the house. She appeared just moments later and crushed him in another bear hug.

"Aunt Jeanine," He breathed, "You should've told me that you guys were coming."

"Actually, they didn't," Madeline corrected him; "They just showed up saying that they were looking for you, hearing that you got a new house. I immediately saw you inside Mr. Austal here and made the connection."

Richard's wife, Jeanine Austal was five foot ten with long blonde hair and gray eyes. Like her husband, age was starting to take hold and wrinkles had just begin to show themselves, but it was clear that she was still a very striking woman. Similarly, her figure was very trim and in good shape for someone in their mid-fifties.

"Look at you," She playfully squeezed Marcus' arm, "When you become a Spartan, do you eat nails for breakfast?"

"Maybe liquid nails," This made all four of them roar with laughter.

"You have such a beautiful house," She went on, giving a wink to Madeline, "And you found a beautiful girl too,"

"Actually," He jumped in, "I didn't just become a Spartan," Holding up his left hand, he revealed the ring on his finger, "I got married too."

Hurrying back, he opened the Hog's door, "C'mon."

Holding Gabrielle's hand, he came back to the front entrance, "Aunt Jeanine and Uncle Richard, I'd like you to meet my wife, Gabrielle." He gestured to his adoptive "parents", "Gabs, this is my Uncle Richard and Aunt Jeanine. They raised me when my parents died."

Jeanine was the first to approach and she narrowed her eyes as if studying her. Gabrielle tried her best not to recoil from the stare.

Finally after a few moments, she said, "Blue Dawson."

"I…"

"You're on some of the advertisements for Blue Dawson,"

"Yes…" Almost shyly, she extended her hand out, but instead was pulled into a hug.

"No shaking hands here," Jeanine chastised, "You're an Austal, which means you're family."

Everyone laughed at that.

"Speaking of family, where's Von at? Was he able to make it out here?"

"Actually he's actually started a business."

"Wow! Good for him! What kind of a business?"

"He makes his own beer,"

"No way!"

"We brought some of it for you guys to try out and I guarantee that it's going to be very popular here."

"Can't wait."

"And he is not going to believe how big you've gotten!"

"C'mon," Jeanine gestured to the door, "Madeline gave us a tour of the house so let's pop a bottle of champagne and beer and I'll whip up some of my famous salad and garlic bread," She put an arm around Gabrielle and led her inside, "We used to go to a market in San Diego that had extremely cheap and local produce. Marcus and my own son Von LOVED my garlic bread so much that by the time dinner was served, there was hardly any left with them both squabbling over the last piece."

Richard had left to join his wife, leaving Marcus and Madeline outside.

"That went better than I expected," She said after a moment, "I'm glad she's really becoming a part of your family."

He nodded, "They love her already."

"Anyway, they just showed up when the yard guys were leaving and I couldn't exactly go away from the house with them around. Also took a bit of explaining to tell them I wasn't your girlfriend," She wiggled her eyebrows at him, "I think they just wanted to put you through that uncomfortable feeling."

"Then I owe you,"

"Nah," She lightly hit his arm in a playful way, "Why don't you give Gabrielle a good time when your guests leave,"

"If they're not staying here, I bet they were impressed with the entire house, including the guest bedrooms,"

"Yup," She glanced at the Chatter on her wrist, "I better get going."

"Sure you don't want to stay? Like my aunt said, she's cooking and you do not want to miss out on her garlic bread."

"I don't want to feel like a third wheel though,"

"Madeline, this isn't a date, we're just family getting together to enjoy ourselves and catch up. My aunt and uncle will see that you're my wife's best friend and they'll welcome you with open arms. If they didn't they would've kicked you out of the house already. Trust me, Jeanine's an ex-Air Force control."

"If you say so."

"Believe me; you'll be lucky if you manage to have one piece of bread before I devour all of it."

* * *

 **Yup, there are more Austals out there! We finally meet Marcus' adoptive "parents" or rather his aunt and uncle who raised him in San Diego.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing as always, you give my writing purpose.**


	14. Newlyweds IV

**Alto Valeur, Fleurdelis, New Corsica**

 **March 4, 2558**

It was nearly impossible for Austal to see through the thick air. Night had fallen in the sky and the Pelican's headlights cut through the dense fog as it continued its descent. Behind him were several others and every few moments was lit up by strafing antiaircraft fire.

Aside from him as a Spartan, the group of Marines huddled around, all sitting at the edge of their seats. Those that were standing had a hand on the overhanging bulkheads to steady themselves whenever the aircraft shifted.

"Whole lotta surface fire," The pilot drawled, "And this thick fog isn't making things better,"

"These Covies ain't got nothing we can't deal with!" One of the Marines chimed in, with the rest of her squad murmuring in agreement.

No sooner had she said that when a purple flash blinded them from the open bay behind. The dropship coming right on their six had virtually zero time to dodge as the plasma shell had seemingly appeared right out of the blue. The impact was dead center in the cockpit.

None of the occupants onboard the doomed craft had any opportunity to scream or even register what had happened. A brilliant purple and white fireball lit up the night before winking out. There was no debris or ash that fell down. It was completely vaporized.

Immediately, the other pelicans widened their berth to one another to try and avoid similar fates.

"Shit," Austal heard one of them mutter. The entire cabin was silent as they briefly mourned the fates of their comrades behind them. He personally didn't know any of the people he was flying with, but like him, many had families who still had no idea they just lost a loved one.

"I've got a visual on the LZ!" The pilot said, "It's crawling with Covies and Ghosts! We'll have no time to deploy!"

"Where are the Mantises?"

"About thirty secs out!"

"Okay," Austal headed right over to a weapon case, with Marines automatically moving aside to make room for the Spartan. He popped open a weapon case from an overhead bin.

With twin accelerators, the Asymmetric Recoilless Carbine-920 fired devastating super ferric tungsten slugs at an incredible speed. Obliterating flesh, armor and shredding shields, it required a brief charging time and an expert aim. A direct hit on a Covenant ghost was enough to tear it apart and the quick velocity meant that no leading the shot was required, unlike a rocket launcher. There was a disposable power cell that greatly increased its weight and although it was considered man-portable, many outside the Spartans considered it to still be quite heavy and unwieldly.

Austal loaded it from the top after slapping his M57 on his back and stared outside. By now the ground was visible with several dark figures running around. Grunts all began shooting up with green blobs of plasma from their pistols and there was only a couple elites taking potshots at the approaching aircraft with their own rifles.

"Slow your descent!" Marcus shouted to the pilot, "I'm going in!"

Before the pilot or the Marines could acknowledge his words, the Spartan casually jumped off the edge. The difference in weight rocked the bird.

Ever the daredevil, Austal summersaulted in mid-air before finally getting a good look at the ground beneath him. Sure enough the defenses were light enough to take on in a conventional standpoint, but they were also giving anything coming in from the sky a hard time.

His thrusters kicked in to slow his fifty foot drop. Unslinging the railgun, he immediately spotted a ghost and took aim.

Holding down the trigger, the weapon sparked and the smart-scope on his HUD began to fill from a charging meter. He centered it right on the vehicle, which had spotted him and began strafing immediately.

Releasing the trigger, there was no kick from the railgun, but the super ferric shell did its work, shooting out at an incredible speed. The ghost was hit on the left side, eliminating the generator and it settled to the ground in flames and fragments.

A storm of plasma fire came his way and he knelt down close to the singed ground. Taking a moment to peer outside, he opened up with the M57.

With a smaller pistol caliber, the APDWS had similar projectiles to the railgun, albeit more towards armor piercing carbide alloys. The few grunts that were unlucky to be within his sights let out pained squeals before limply falling over.

A charging elite with a sword came at him from his nine and he swung the weapon around, letting the last of his magazine loose to cut it down. When he did, a handful more surrounded him.

They halted at the top, since he was in the bottom of a blackened crater and activated their energy swords.

Rather than appear startled by the sudden change of overwhelming odds, Austal shifted his grip and pulled out the railgun, holding both weapons with one hand each.

"We gonna get started or what?"

As the lead elite, one in the orange-gold warrior armor reared and let out a feral roar, brilliant flashes of light filled the space in front. A flurry of rockets accelerated towards them, exploding close enough for his armor to barely adjust the temperature in time to prevent blistering heat from penetrating.

When the dust cleared, the elites were gone and what remained of armor, flesh and weapons were now charred piles of debris.

A clanking noise brought him out of his stupor and he looked to his side to see multiple giant twenty foot HRUNTING/YGGDRASIL exoskeletons lumber past. The mantises' machine guns flashed as they unloaded hot brass downrange, pulverizing all the Covenant targets.

Looking up, he saw the pelicans cut their searchlights through the sky as they made their final descent. Their hatches quickly opened and the Marines piled out in a quick and efficient manner. As soon as their loads were off board, the aircraft took back to the sky, much more maneuverable and mindful of the green flashes of antiaircraft artillery.

Austal was oblivious to the shouting of the sergeants as the men moved on, securing the front as the heavy mantises cleared the path. Instead, he was focused on the distortion that shimmered; not from the heat. From active camouflage.

Turz 'Xiva made no attempt to hide himself any longer, as he had been spotted and waiting.

It was Austal who had smashed his jaw and gave him a rather nasty shameful wound to lick.

He was here to return the favor.

Marcus tried to move as 'Xiva casually approached, but his limbs refused to obey his brain. Even his finger couldn't tighten on the trigger of his guns. When he looked closer, 'Xiva had someone on either side of him. A man and a woman.

A light was shined in their faces.

"Mom? Dad?"

Just behind 'Xiva, a human approached. The distinct face of Zachary Gustafson wielded a wicked looking curved blade before quickly stabbing the back of both Steve and Selena Austal's heads. Neither of them had a chance to scream before the blade terminated their spinal cords.

Marcus could only sit and glare as 'Xiva let out a deep chuckle and Gustafson wiped the blade off of Selena's dress with satisfaction.

"Your pretty wife is next," The words echoed off everywhere before the dream terminated itself.

* * *

Austal's eyes snapped open to the darkness of his bedroom. Unlike the cliché nightmare scene where one would burst up from the bed gasping and covered in sweat, Marcus had to take a second to realize that nothing had transpired and he was still lying down next to Gabrielle. His hand was halfway to the drawer in his nightstand, which contained an M11 Combat Knife as a habit for a last-resort self defense if he were to have to immediately fight an intruder while sleeping. That handy weapon had saved his life once.

No sweat glistened in the moonlight off his defined body, but he still felt hot.

A minute later, he stood inside the master bathroom's shower stall, silent and head bowed as the cool water cascaded off his back. Looking over in the mirror that showed his back, he grimaced at the graffiti of scars that ran up, down and aside. Some were back in his days as a Para-Rescueman and begun to fade. Others were trophies from his Spartan career, War Games injuries and close calls with different Covenant species and promethean light blades. All along his back, the dark red lines almost mingled with the cursive "Servitas Vitae" tattooed on his back.

Rapidly feeling his core temperature coming back down to a normal level, his thoughts processed to the strangely vivid dream he experienced.

So he knew the sangheili he had personally beat up on the Steadfast was named 'Xiva and the difference in his armor compared to the other Covenant forces signified that he was not part of Jul 'Mdama's Covenant. Was he a mercenary?

Yet, Gustafson's appearance, stabbing both of his parents was startling to say the least. The infamous terrorist was locked up in the Closet, a maximum security prison on a desolated moon with nearly zero avenues of escape. All visitors were extremely closely monitored and vetted and communications to and from the facility were triple reviewed by the staff, even with a prison guard calling their family on Christmas Day.

Shutting off the water, Marcus quickly dried himself, threw on a pair of briefs and headed out into the bedroom. A quick check assured him that Gabrielle was still sleeping thanks to the near-quiet shower system. The blanket covered the lower part of her body as she laid down facing to the right. He knew that when she awoke again; she would likely want another session of intense lovemaking, so he made a mental note to just stay up for a few more minutes.

So while the COD of his parent's demise was evident and he had eventually thrust the man responsible behind bars, Marcus still had no idea what the motive was. Yes, Gustafson was a cold blooded killer who took a rather unhealthy amount of pleasure in his sadism, but at the same time there was a method to his madness. Something that large of a scale, engineered with such precision to hit just one portion of a building meant that he had been contracted. Forensics and crime scene investigators were still looking into the attack and none of the victims stood out to have such powerful enemies.

Except Steve and Selena Austal.

 _Up inside the hotel's penthouse, a young eleven year old Marcus had a pouting face on while he folded his arms once again to kick the barstool._

 _Normally well behaved, but it seemed that today, his parents were having none of his antics. He wanted to go play in the swimming pool with the other kids or even try to arrange a diving lesson with the gorgeous college babe that was the instructor. He was given two choices, to come with them to the dinner they were having with some of Earth's foreign relation representatives or wait until they came back with something to eat for him._

 _The argument started between his parents when Selena confided to Steve about her sadness of not being able to bear another child. She had been declared sterile for more than eight years and the thought had never escaped her. Steve was annoyed as well that she still hadn't gotten over the fact and Marcus just wished that they would stop pining for what couldn't happen and take care of the one they had now._

 _He was born an only child and nothing was going to change that._

 _Little did he know that at the exact moment when he kicked the chair, he became an orphan._

The response was swift. LAPD arrived on the scene with chemical warfare units heading in to rescue the victims. When it was believed that armed men were holding hostages, the Navy's Para-Rescue Expeditionary Forces were deployed onto the roof.

Marcus was one of the first people found. He was sitting on the deck, looking out over the Pacific Ocean when the first Falcons bearing the Navy colors flew overhead.

He never forgot that day. Him crying into one of the men's shoulders as they carried him onto the aircraft. By the time he reached the ground, there was literally nobody to go to.

Richard Austal was notified and he quickly filed for Marcus' custody within four hours of the incident.

He had given him hard copies from old news articles covering the attack, which had made world headlines right next to the article depicting a glassing of New Llanelli. Ever since then, he had been trying to piece together why his parents were killed. In addition, there were several other articles as well that didn't concern the gas attack in Los Angeles, but many were terror attacks believed to be Gustafson's work.

The papers were older, covered in dust and he spread them out on the table as if he was a theorist. A bomb attack on New Legaspi, an attempted heist of fifty billion credits on Luna and the Office of Naval Intelligence had attempted to set up a trap in the aftermath of the LA gas attack, intercepting a transport headed for Reach that he was confirmed to be aboard. He never showed up and it was unclear how he disappeared.

Either way, Gustafson was behind bars in one of the most secure and secretive prisons in the entire UNSC. He would never hurt anyone ever again.

So Austal hoped. Glancing back to his bedroom, he felt his body telling him that it was still in sleep debt. The augmented benefit meant that he could run on just an hour, but for some reason, sleeping on a king sized bed next to his wife changed his demands for more shut-eye. It was a big change from the bunks found on the warships or bases, in which stones would usually be more comfortable.

Shutting off the light, Marcus stumbled back towards his bed and fell into a deep slumber.

He was still out when Gabrielle woke up at dawn.

* * *

 **Sorry it took so damn long for me to get this out. Busy and out of town. Hope nobody went anywhere while I was gone. A bit of a filler chapter, but things will be getting more interesting shortly.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	15. Ruins I

**Alto Valeur, Fleurdelis, New Corsica**

 **March 16, 2558**

Gabrielle feared this day would come.

The two of them were enjoying dinner where Austal had broke out his grill, spying a pair of juicy tenderloin filet mignon at the grocer. The sounds of sizzling meats and faint trails of smoke went hand in hand in one of his favorite sights and ears of sweet corn and foil covered potatoes were also on the irons.

As long as the smoke was with wood. On metal was a whole different story and he hoped the sound would never be his own flesh.

While she loved cooking, there was no objection to him insisting that he wanted to try out their new grill by the pool. So she decided that when she came home from one of her showings, she would go for an evening swim.

He often cast approving looks in her direction as he worked and threw a towel her way when she stepped out in her bikini. She brushed hair out of her face and wrapped herself inside. The air was cooler, not chilly with the sun setting in the west with another spectacular showing.

So he lit some of the torches aflame when she came back out, fully dressed this time and they settled underneath the canopy. The conversations were lively and she suspected that he was getting ready to deliver unsettling news.

It came when the dishes were cleared and he cracked a bottle of Sauvignon from their cellar. They sat across from one another, bathed in the orange light made by the torches and enjoying the breathtaking view of the Kadar Ocean as well as part of downtown Alto Valeur. In the distance, there was a UNSC frigate that had completed its descent over the ocean before making her way over to Turbin Island, where the drydock was located.

Looking at his wife and the saddened look on her face told him that she already knew what he was about to say.

"I have to go back out on duty," He finally said.

"When?"

"Tomorrow. Ross is coming to pick me up." This was definitely an uncomfortable subject for him, especially when he refused to make eye contact, "We're heading underway at two in the afternoon. Mamore. The natives are getting restless again."

Gabrielle sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and shivered. "You know I hate it when you leave."

"I know," He crossed over, putting his arms around her. "I'm sorry I have to do this every time, but somebody has to play cowboy to rescue beautiful women and teach the bad guys not to mess with the UNSC."

She chuckled, "I bet that's why every lady you show up to rescue instantly falls in love,"

"More than you think. Actually, the only one that matters to me is the one in my arms," He kissed her on the cheek. "You shower?"

"I did not,"

"Good. We can have enough action for both that and the bedroom,"

* * *

He awoke the next morning with his arms draped over Gabrielle's bare backside as they slept. Looking at the clock reading 0852, he realized he had slept for nearly eight hours. Rarely did he ever go lights out for that long. It felt like two minutes.

Rolling out of bed, he quickly threw on a fresh pair of military fatigues before brushing his teeth and a quick shave. He took one long look at everything. To be honest, he had no idea how long he was going to be gone or even if he would see his home or wife again.

He brewed himself a cup of coffee, a local brand called Ayunean Coffee Co and sat at the table, sipping thoughtfully and going through his datatablet on news. In the middle of that, his stomach growled so he got to work on the range and was flipping pancakes with white chocolate chips.

"Hey," Her voice drifted from the kitchen.

Looking up, he saw Gabrielle dressed in nothing but a blue silk bathrobe. She had another cup of coffee in hand and sat across from him.

"Hey," He grinned at the robe, a present from her best friend Kate. "You hungry? I made enough for us both."

"Yes of course." He had found out that his white chocolate pancakes were her favorite and the best way to start a first day without him.

"I'm leaving you one of my guns in case you need to defend yourself,"

"Why?" She gave him a puzzled look, "Are you expecting company?"

"I don't know. I just want you to be safe. I've taught you how to properly handle one and you know where I keep all my weapons and ammo. Only thing is that you don't have a conceal carry license, so no taking it outside the house. We'll work on that when I come back," He chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

A knock at the door got both of their attention and Marcus went to open it.

Ross Pine was standing at the door dressed in sniper camouflage pants, a wavy pattern of gray, green and blue as well as a tank top. His dog tags hung loosely around his neck and a pair of aviator sunglasses were on top of his head.

"Hey brotha," The two greeted one another by shaking hands and then pulling forward to give a friendly slap on the back, "You ready to go?"

"Just about," He gestured to the door, "Come on in. I'll just be a few minutes."

They headed inside and Gabrielle had walked to the front. At first, her face turned red from being only in a bathrobe, but she played it off. "Hey Ross,"

"Gabrielle," He gave her an approving nod, "You're looking beautiful today as always,"

"Thanks,"

"Here," Marcus handed off his duffel and turned to his wife, cupping her face in his hands, "Soon enough I'll be back and around so much, you'll wish I got called for another mission again."

Gabrielle smiled, but still couldn't hold back a pair of tears trickling down her cheeks. "Be safe. Please."

"Of course. I love you Gabs," He gently kissed her on the lips before joining Ross in the car. They backed out of the driveway and waved at her for as long as possible until they were out of sight.

* * *

"So," Ross began to say when they turned onto the main highway. The traffic delays were lightening up as the day progressed and they comfortably went to cruising speed with roadware engaged, as required by law. Eon's resident sniper flipped on the "aggressive" mode for the car and they immediately shifted left to the passing lane to head around slower cars.

"So what?"

"Are you gonna tell me or Brett?"

"Tell you about what?"

"Gabrielle of course,"

Austal glared at him, "Right. Christmas came early I guess."

"Christmas? Nine and a half months early huh?"

"I've been good all year right?"

"Tony won't agree and Bailey is probably the same too."

They both chuckled at that. By now, the highrise buildings of downtown Alto Valeur could be seen to their right and on their left side was the enormous Turbin Island military base. At the far end by the water was a large quintet of drydocks capable of accommodating small warships up to the size of a Halcyon-class cruiser. Next to it was a single runway airfield with multiple hangars on the side and a series of highways that ran from the rest of the island, which held the remainder of the base.

"So how good is she?"

"She's good." A pause, "Where did you tell Marissa you were going?"

"Glabetov. You?"

"Mamore,"

Pine scoffed, "You're avoiding the question. Do I need to elaborate it?"

"No."

"Then answer it, or I will both elaborate and get Brett to pester you."

"Fine," Austal shook his head, "She's amazing in bed. Fucking amazing. A thirty out of ten."

"I think she spoiled you."

"You got that right."

* * *

Half an hour later, Austal and Pine had boarded a Pelican that raced across the sky. Their destination was not one of the ships in drydock, but one that hung farther away south from Fleurdelis' coastline.

She was about the same size as a heavy frigate and similar to the modern Halberd-class, there were two long lines of armor plating atop her dorsal bow, each one bent at an angle and separated at the very front so that it loosely resembled a catamaran boat. At the ship's center was a narrow glass dome and more sleek armor covered the back areas. Four primary engines were arranged in a "V" shape and backed by two auxillary powerplants in the center. They were approaching her starboard side and could see three large hangars that spanned approximately one third of the length combined.

Their transport headed inside the middle hangar which was a beehive of activity. Pelicans were also arriving in the other hangars, dollies carrying crates were scurrying everywhere and the overhead crane was shifting to the bay on their right, moving a sixty ton M920 scorpion tank to the main hold. Crewmembers moved about, doing their jobs smoothly like a well-oiled machine.

A ground crew quickly secured the aircraft when it touched down on a metal deck and the ramp was extended out with an audible hiss.

As the few other passengers, mostly lower ranking officers were with them and they headed left, where a Lieutenant was waiting for them. Lusana, already dressed in his Spartan undersuit was standing in front.

The Spartans quickly disembarked and saluted their team leader, who stood next to an older woman with the four bars and single star insignia of a captain.

"Spartans Pine and Austal reporting for duty as ordered sir," They said in unison.

Lusana returned their salute as did the woman, "Adese," She said, "I'm Captain Kristina Barrett. Welcome aboard the _Vociferous_. We'll be getting underway once the last of our supplies are aboard and accounted for. Let's grab some lunch in the mess hall. Spartan Lusana and I will fill you both in on your mission and side duty."

"Side duty?" Pine asked.

"I asked the same thing once I came onboard," The corners of Tony's mouth curved in a smile and any further inquiries were going to be met with silence, so they let that one go.

The Captain led the way down the entrances at the hangar's rear as multiple moving vehicles and personnel stopped and saluted their CO as they passed.

There was an elevator at the end which they boarded. Once the doors sealed shut, the noisy jet engine roar of the aircraft was replaced by the soft humming lull of the ship's machinery all around.

"Deck two," Barrett said aloud.

"Confirmed, Deck Two." A monotone female voice responded, moving the car upwards just moments later.

" _Vociferous_ huh?" Austal asked, taking a look at the elevator around them. It deviated from the traditional ones found on standard warships with a more sleek stainless steel appearance. There was also a biometric scanner at the main controls next to the buttons and glass doors that looked fairly thin, but were likely made of the durable plastasteel. "I've never seen anything like it."

"She's the second of the new _Thames_ -class," Captain Barrett explained, "Large-scale ships designed to operate close to highly dangerous regions for long deployments. State-of-the-art stealth design capable of moving a moderate sized force in enemy territory invisible to all but the most sophisticated sensor systems. We can give support from a small fireteam like yourselves or an entire occupation front. Damn near expensive too. Costs almost as much as a whole flotilla of frigates."

"Seems nice." Pine said, "I take it there won't be a lot of them built?"

"Fewer than what I believe is sufficient," The elevator stopped at the second deck and they disembarked, the doors noiselessly closing behind them. "You know these spooks. The _Thames_ is exclusively crewed by ONI. Hood says we were lucky we even got ahold of one."

The mess hall was down another couple quarters with the title "Officers' Mess" on the floor. Unless deployed in large amounts, Spartan teams onboard ships were treated to the officers' sections of the ship. Food on a ship was always good and the menu was diversified enough to make sure everyone on the melting pot of the crew was able to eat something.

All four of them grabbed a plate and moved down the line for the lunch of the day; chicken parmesan with mozzarella, fresh baked French rolls, green beans and chocolate chip cookies. With plates full, they easily found a table and began eating.

Barrett opened up a folder and passed out identical papers to each Spartan at the table, "Your commander has informed me of your course of action and I've reviewed it and will try to help out in any way possible. In the meantime," She gestured to the copies.

Austal scanned through it and he looked up with a puzzled expression on his face, "Training duty? What the hell did we do to deserve that?"

"It's not a punishment Austal, the _Vociferous_ and other _Thames_ ships will be getting their own contingents of Spartan-IVs for their own operations. They won't be interfering with ours and this won't be the last time we'll be aboard one of these ships. Lots of the new Spartans being assigned are brand new," Lusana explained, "We're the ones going to whip them into shape."

"They onboard now?"

"Yes, after your first deployment, you will start the first War Games class."

"So where are we headed?" Austal asked. "I'm guessing not Glabetov or Mamore."

"Ascella IV. As many of you know, it was the site of a brutal naval and ground engagement with the Covenant with enormous ruins across the surface. We've tracked the _Song of Retribution_ since she left Requiem and a large portion of Jul's cruisers in the system. They're likely excavating ruins for supplies, fuel and maybe even more soldiers to their cause."

Pine bit into one of his cookies, "I remember that battle. In '52, much of the attacking fleet didn't bother to glass it since they were being redirected to aid the fleet invading Reach. There are large forces on both sides that are stranded without any outside contact and they probably still believe the war is still ongoing."

"Exactly," Barrett pointed out, "We're going to be the first UNSC forces to visit since the battle and if there are survivors, we'll find them. I don't expect us to have a warm welcome so we should clear out the unwanted ones first. When we reach orbit, I'll have our UAVs begin sweeping sections of last reported Covenant activity on the surface and send you in to knock them down." She stood up, saluting them, which they returned the gesture. "Our ETA is nine hours."

"We'll be awaiting the word for boots on the ground when that happens."

The Captain seemed satisfied by this and departed the table, leaving the Spartans alone.

"Our friend 'Mdama and 'Xiva chose this planet for a reason," Lusana studied the reports again, "Supplies and new followers are good reasons, but if the Covenant have been excavating during their occupation here…"

"Then they're looking for something."

* * *

 **Yes, they are looking for something. Like Cortana says; it's the Covenant. They're ALWAYS looking for something.**

 **So we're about to go back into the action. Things are about to get really interesting real quick.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	16. Ruins II

**State of Chulack, Ascella IV**

 **March 18, 2553**

Discovered in the early half of the twenty-fifth century, the Ascella System was remarkable with a rare feature of two rocky planets suitable for terraforming.

At first, it was going well; the process was close with the twin planets of roughly equal size both scheduled to be completed within a couple years, ready for colonization. They were an estimated six hundred thousand miles away from one another and for about three months each year, people could look up into the sky and see their sister planet above.

Then something went wrong on the outer planet. Terraforming process took a turn for the worse and rather than turn it into an ideal planet for humans to live; it did the opposite. The temperature constantly ran below zero and it remained lifeless tundra.

Such was the fate of Asella V, in which UNSC continued its efforts, hoping not all of it was in vain. Their work continued even with the raging war against the Covenant and finally abandoned when the hegemony invaded the Ascella system. The weight of the failure was met with a very harsh response from both people and media, leading up to multiple reviews by ONI for future habitable worlds and the equipment used to process them. Mysteriously, both personnel and machines had folded into the dark and never had surfaced.

Ascella IV remained the sole habitable world in the system…for now.

In contrast to its subzero temperatures, its residents were treated to a more arid climate. Much of its surface, save for the regions closer to the poles had less than average rainfall, instead relying on wide rivers cutting through to irrigate an oasis and large aquifers running deep underground.

The main industry on the planet had been agriculture. While the water crisis's came and went, the planet continued to thrive with residents adapting adequately to its climate. Conflicts were easily suppressed and any disputes were negotiated. Ascella IV had also become an ideal place to retire. Recently, communities dedicated to the retirees had sprung up around its major cities.

It was a different world since the Covenant had attacked six years ago. Gone were the flourishing farms and close-knit towns. There was evidence of dust and sandstorms adding a sort of forlorn appearance to a wild western vibe that was seen in the holo-movies.

The dryness would suck every single ounce of moisture out of the air and thus, leave rusting of metal objects to be prolonged. Signs of conflict between UNSC and Covenant forces were still present. While flesh decayed with the aid of scavengers and maggots, the empty husks of vehicles used by both sides remained in the same condition they were left in when they were destroyed. Had it not been for the extinguished fires, the scorch marks gave away memories of the bloody conflict that was clashed on the surface.

Something shimmered atop one of the hills overlooking a deep canyon, which moved quickly, interrupting the mirage producing heat waves running across the cracked ground.

Hunched over, the camouflaged sangheili zealot had drawn his energy sword as he scanned the narrow pass inside. Nothing was remotely moving.

This part of the canyon was small enough where the two sides were close enough to be walked upon before widening out into a larger foundation. The water flow went downwards, quickly developing into a rapid at the bottom, leaving a pebbled beach made of smoothened stones.

He looked back at his tracker; still nothing.

Taking a risk, he deactivated his active camo.

* * *

Ten meters behind him, a similarly camouflaged Ross Pine and Blake Bailey were just behind the zealot.

At first, they nearly ran right into him while investigating a canyon with suspected Covenant activity and a secret base for Jul 'Mdama. Splitting up into separate groups, Pine and Bailey offered to investigate the beginning of the canyon and discovered the cave system around its walls.

"Eon Lead, this is Eon Three. We've been tailing a zealot for a half hour and he's been spooked by something."

"Roger that Eon Three," Lusana's calm voice flowed through their comms like the smaller stream before them, "Has he spotted you?"

"Almost. If I had to guess, he's doing a sweep of a perimeter."

"Stay on him. It confirms the UAV's collected data that the Covenant may have established their base of operations in a cave system underground."

"We can move in, stay undetected and see what they're up to." Bailey suggested.

"Negative. We don't even know if it's 'Mdama's group that's out here. It might be the original Covenant military."

"I guess negotiations are off the table."

"If you're willing to risk getting your ass burned by plasma, sure go for it," Fowler sarcastically chimed in.

"You're a real ray of sunshine today," Austal added.

"At least I'm not missing anyone."

"Gentlemen," Lusana sharply cut in, expecting a snarky reply from Austal, "Is there a reason your bickering only occurs when we're on the clock?"

"No sir,"

"Negative."

"Good," The matter had been settled, "Find their base of operations and pull whatever you can find on their network. We may just have to map about."

"I'm at the other tunnel," Austal clarified, "Nobody's been coming in or out this side."

"Pine, Bailey move in."

"Copy," They stepped through the mouth of the cave behind the Zealot as he made his way further into the tunnels. Ross slipped the sniper rifle on his back for a pistol.

"Watch your six," He warned her, tapping the smaller Spartan on the shoulder, "It can be easy to get lost down here."

The Zealot had since deactivated both camouflage and sword and now the glowing yellow lights of his armor were all that provided any sort of light source whatsoever. Their VISRs adjusted the brightness view, essentially giving them virtual night vision.

Moving further inside, the tunnels finally began to show some sort of artificial machinery. The glowing blue and green along the walls suggested that it was Covenant in origin.

As they emerged from the first entrance, a cavernous entrance opened up before them, revealing a spacious place. Large purple machines were up against the walls and a half dozen zealots were inside, manning a few of the stations. At the center was a large oval shaped green display.

"These guys aren't original Covenant," Pine whispered as they took position behind one of the rocks before the center, "They're with 'Mdama."

"Are they collaborating with the others?"

"No clue. This seems to be a hideout of sorts. Place to lay low."

"Then let's light it up. Give the new recruits something to buzz about."

"Boss, I'll swing around with Austal, we'll cut off the escapees at the other tunnel."

"Hold that order, bringing the moth about. Those guys might just have an escape route,"

"We're ready on your mark," Bailey reported. In her hand was a flashbang grenade and next to her, Pine held two napalm charges, when detonated they released sticky hot gel that would burn for prolonged periods.

"This is gonna fuck up our vision for a moment."

"Execute! Execute!"

Bailey flicked the primer off her grenade and tossed it straight in the center. It exploded in a white flash and the sangheili did not expect it, blinding and overwhelming their senses.

Activating his grenades, Pine lobbed his in two different directions, where the two largest groups were located. They detonated, spraying the gel in a fine mist, touching nearly everything as the Spartans hid behind a rock to protect themselves.

The gel quickly adhered to any surface and caught fire, causing the elites to quickly realize that they were burning while being stunned.

Only one of them had quickly rolled out of the way…somehow he wasn't affected by the others and raised his weapon to fire.

Now the Spartans knew that using guns in a napalm misted area was not advisable until it dissipated enough in the air, however in such a confined space, even the slightest spark could be dangerous.

The storm rifle didn't even fire one shot. The superheated plasma instantly caught the fumes and vapors in the cavern, causing the entire place to light up in an inferno.

Bailey saw immediately what the sangheili was going to do and grabbed Pine, shoving both of them out of the tunnel as the fiery explosion blasted right over their heads. They huddled together as close to the ground as possible until the blaze quickly ran out. Heat washed over them until it felt as if they were put into an oven.

Pine groaned, rolling over and examining his armor. The visor was covered in dark soot and for a second, he wondered if it was offline.

"You okay?" Bailey rolled onto her feet and surveyed the area. The lights were murky and the air was thick with dust.

"Fine," He accepted her hand and was promptly pulled up. "Thanks for that."

She gestured to the cavern's entrance, "Our friends didn't know any better than firing into a napalm aerosol place like that."

"We had our guns out. One shot from us would've done the job,"

"And grilled us from the inside out," She chuckled. Ross couldn't suppress a smile, "Just another day being Eon right?"

"That's right," The two of them bumped fists before readying their pistols and heading right back where the blaze started.

In deep contrast to when they first came inside, the machinery was hardly recognizable with a dark gray layer of ash covering its smooth surfaces. What wasn't smooth and intact was melted and disfigured. Heat waves shimmered in the darkness and the Spartans snapped lights on their weapons, casting harsh white beams wherever they aimed.

"Pine, Bailey, status?" Lusana asked.

"Still here. Cooked like bacon though,"

"The hell happened?"

"One of them decided to play hero and try to shoot us with a plasma rifle," Bailey explained.

"Oh so that explains that damn fire and why the hell we had to jump out of the cave!"

"Pull the data?" He asked, ignoring the new bickering Fowler and Austal had renewed.

"Affirmative," Pine looked around, "What's left of it anyway."

"Flared for evac up top. I think we've done enough showing off for the trainees to talk about."

"We're on our way up."

"Boss, I've got three airborne contacts headed our way. I'd call off the bird right now."

"Alright."

"They've found us!" Austal shouted, "Dropping at least a dozen contacts bearing west of our position and advancing quickly! Two ghosts were dropped off by the Phantoms and pinning us down!"

Coming up right behind the two Spartans, Lusana cursed their lack of explosive weaponry save for grenades, which the maneuverable vehicles could easily evade.

" _Vociferous_ , this is Eon Lead! We're under heavy attack west of our position. Requesting CAS!"

"Eon Lead," Captain Barrett's smooth voice came over their comms, "I can launch Archers at your marked location in five mikes."

"I don't know if we have that much time. Keep it hot and ready if things go hairy."

"It's your call."

"Eon Two and Eon Five approaching from the south. We'll set up longshot support and try to thin the herd out."

The force was about two dozen Covenant troops, mostly grunts and elites with three of the four ghosts piloted by the unggoy. All three Spartans had taken cover at the mouth of the cave behind a few rocks in front as the enemy slowly made their way up the desert area.

From their position, Bailey and Pine laid down at the edge, tucked close to the remains of dead trees to help conceal their location. It was about thirty meters behind so in essence, they could run right up to join them, but he realized it may be more sound to stay back and pick off the more dangerous ones as they tried to advance. Luckily the Phantoms decided not to stick around so Lusana had Vociferous surveil the area to see where they were headed back to.

His sniper echoed across the desert valley with a booming thunderclap and his face made no movement, yet he felt satisfied as the elite in his crosshairs had his head blown off by the high caliber antimaterial round.

Beside him, Bailey thumbed her selective fire on her rifle to single shot and popped off slow deliberate bullets. Rather than try to weaken the shields of an elite, she focused on the grunts and jackals.

Every time Lusana, Fowler and Austal tried to pop off a shot, the four ghosts were laying back, weavng about and firing suppressive fire to give their comrades a chances to flank and flush them out for easy targets. Now thanks to the sniper aiding them, they had been more prudent in their rush to take the cave's entrance.

Ross fired another shot, taking out one of the jackals that had just moved his arm shield slightly to expose an unprotected arm when he saw one of the ghosts, the one piloted by the elite break off and make its way around one of the hills that eventually led to their location.

"Eon Three, one of the ghosts just pulled out of the action and it looks like it's curving around to give you guys a welcome."

"I see it." Both Spartans stood up, weapons ready as the vehicle rapidly approached. It opened up with a fusillade of plasma fire in which they strafed to avoid.

Pine blindly fired his sniper; something he didn't do often out of desperation and Bailey switched her battle rifle back to burst fire. Her rounds pinged off the armored hood but his more powerful bullet pierced it, showering sparks everywhere as the driver suddenly boosted forward.

Figuring out what he was intending to do; they dove to the side, missing its pass by just a couple feet. On a swivel, it turned around and moved forward, its driver kept the boost off until it was too late for either to dodge.

Pine was his target when the Spartans split up and it immediately engaged its drive again. Behind him, Bailey now had a clear shot at its operator and continued to squeeze off bursts. Its shields flared from the bullets but it still didn't deter it from closing in on the sniper.

Too late Ross realized that it was going to overrun the cliff and tumble straight down to the others.

The plan came right in his mind.

Moving quickly to the edge, he saw the ghost following behind, turning around to take a potshot at Bailey to keep her at bay. It then turned back to him and engaged its boosters. Although he couldn't see it, the elite was snickering behind the controls.

"Not this time," He waited until it was certain that it was not intent on stopping, "Brett, get your shotgun and point it up!"

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

He threw himself aside again as the ghost fruitlessly tried to run him down again. Instead, the boost had propelled it over the mouth of the cave, right towards the group of Covenant.

Fowler had done as Pine had asked, slipped the empty SAW on his back for his CQC M45 shotgun and was looking up. For a moment, he thought the Spartan had decided to throw grunts like clay pigeons .

Then he saw it; the ghost that left just a minute ago was flying through the air rapidly, with its boosters still engaged.

He snapped his smart-scope up and pumped two shots in less than a second. The buckshot pellets stormed the side of the ghost, tearing both the driver and the vehicle into fragments. The powerplant combusted and it exploded in a purple fireball.

Cries of panic came from the numerous grunts as the debris fell down at a speed equivalent to his shotgun. The lucky ones were killed on impact while the others made a pointless attempt to escape the makeshift barrage.

The elite commanding the assault growled and barked out orders to the lesser troops. The remaining three ghosts tightened formation and began to fire up at Pine and Bailey's position.

"They've no longer deemed us the immediate threat," Fowler was still grinning under his ATLAS helmet and even more pleased that the whole action was caught on recording.

"What are we going to do about those ghosts?"

"Leave that to me," Austal assured, "Just have enough firepower to kill at least one of them."

"One?"

"Give me some cover," He ignored the puzzled looks on the other two and moved out of cover. He tapped a pair of jackals that were just about to flank him before he had finally caught the attention of one of the ghosts.

The grunt drivers definitely weren't as smart as their elite counterparts and they immediately moved closer for a kill.

The closest one was just ten feet away and focused on blasting him with plasma, not moving his vehicle at all. Austal crossed that distance with a sprint, jumping acrobatically into the air and landing perfectly right on the front.

Instead of grabbing the driver and yanking them out in an action popularly dubbed by Spartans as "hijacking" he pivoted himself, keeping his hands and legs on the vehicle.

The grunt driving was freaking out, firing the guns and cranking it in various vectors to try and shake him off.

Seeing the ghosts and the remainder of the troops distracted, Lusana and Fowler broke cover. Hails of SMG and shogtun fire tore down the rest of the lesser races as Brett broke into a dead sprint, firing his thrusters at maximum power and lowering his shoulder in a bash. The elite took the brunt of the charge, bones shattering and the impact was enough to fling him several meters away.

Back at the ghost skirmish, Ross was putting his crosshair on one of the ghosts, pulling the trigger and finally locating his mark. The grunt's armor was no match for the sniper round and it settled to the dusty floor, its engines whining down as the operator was not detected.

On top, Austal clamped his hands over the main driver controls. The grunt manning it was now in full fledged panic mode and was trying everything from squirming to shaking in its seat to try and get him off.

He engaged the booster drive and steered it towards the other ghost. It was thinking about firing on him, but it seemed hesitant since he was on a friendly vehicle.

Austal was vaguely aware that both of the grunts had begun screaming in terror as they figured out his plan, but by then it was too late to stop it.

The ghosts ran directly at one another in full power and he gave the horrified driver a two fingered salute before jumping off and landing in a perfect shoulder roll.

At maximum speed, the two vehicles collided in a loud explosion and screech of metal, sending flaming shrapnel everywhere.

For the longest time, it seemed like it was just serenely quiet. The only sound coming from anything was the flames licking at anything nearby.

"Show off," Fowler muttered, "You just had to show off."

Austal chuckled, rolling onto his feet, "I hope someone recorded that one too."

* * *

 **Austal you showing off SOB. Never change.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	17. War Games I

**UNSC** _ **Vociferous**_ **in orbit over Ascella IV**

 **March 19, 2553**

Both of them were loudly chatting to one another about the Spartans as they moved further down in line. The mess hall was rather quiet that day, even though it was almost midday and lunch was being served.

Fowler didn't really care a lot about people that actively talked on the feats that he and his team did, but much of it had been exaggerated that it barely resembled what had actually happened.

It was likely some enlisted guy had seen the feed as it was being reviewed for the team's debrief earlier that morning when they had found more abandoned Covenant stations and rewound to the part of the action. He told it to someone else and that person would tell more people. Details would be blurred and by the time it spread around the whole ship; the last few to hear the story likely were told a highly corrupted version.

"So here's the good part," The guy was very animated and enthusiastic, like he had never seen a Spartan do things like that before, "After the third ghost was disabled, the last two had to blindly charge the kid."

"Who the hell was keeping them from firing? The sniper?" His buddy asked.

"No, it was the volatile one. Can't remember his name. So he's occupied with one of the elites-"

Fowler rolled his eyes as the story went on. He grabbed a plate and went down the line after them, accepting the daily lunch servings of beef enchiladas with black beans and Spanish rice. He pointed to Austal and Bailey sitting at one of the empty tables and held up three fingers for the drink dispenser. Seeing that he wasn't lying, the man behind the counter nodded and handed over three cans of soda. They had just been taken out of the cooler after the others had made their run on the counter.

"And he freakin shoulder bashes the hinge-head from behind like POW!" He lowered his side and made a mock barging motion, "Sends it flyin through the air a good fifteen feet!"

"Holy-"

"That's not the end of it. The kid had jumped onto the hood of the closer Ghost-"

"You mean he was going to kick the driver out and take over?"

"No, instead he grabs the handles and steers it so that it goes full speed on a collision with the other Ghost before he plants a plasma grenade on the terrified grunt's head, destroying both in the explosion."

"Bullshit!" The other guy had exclaimed, "First try!"

"Yeah not kidding. Right in dead in the fucking center!" He stuffed a piece of food into his mouth, "I don't know if you've seen highlights of that kid in action. He's supposedly only a tad over six foot, but he is not to be messed with."

Three tables over, the Spartans were effortlessly eavesdropping. It was not uncommon for other servicemen to talk about the incredible feats they did from War Games exercises, but seeing firsthand was something else.

"I thought you rammed the Ghosts into each other," Bailey said.

Austal nodded, "I did."

"You going to go over and tell them how it really happened?"

He paused, as if pondering about it for a second before he shook his head and jerked a thumb in their direction, "I like theirs better."

"Me too," Fowler agreed, "But even after you pulled that off, I still have to say that it was a ballsy move."

"Stuff like that makes highlight reels,"

"Sure does," Austal was interrupted by the ringing of his datapad. "Shit. We got War Games critiques in fifteen. Boss wants us to meet him in the bay,"

"Critique?" Bailey asked.

"That's why we were brought on _Vociferous_ in the first place." Fowler explained, "A ship like this is going to have its own contingent of specialized Spartans to carry out covert operations in centralized zones. Sort of like us, but they will stick to particular sectors,"

"Boss read the report from the Requiem campaign's aftermath. Much of the top brass wasn't thrilled at what happened. We threw a lot of resources into research, intelligence and protection into that world, only to have it destroyed. We even had attempts to kill Jul 'Mdama twice and failed."

"So where do we fit in?" Bailey asked.

"Upon review Captain Lasky and Commander Palmer suggested that Infinity's Spartan attachment be renovated with more experienced and seasoned personnel. We're one of the teams that was not mentioned for that, even though we're not based aboard. So while Infinity is in the process of redoing itself, Tyrant and the rest of the Spartan command staff have assigned us to help hone the new Spartans attached to these vessels stationed in the edges of space to maximize potential."

"We're Spartans though, aren't we supposed to be the best of the best?"

"Yes," Austal sipped his drink, "But we're not invincible. Even guys like us can't stand up to every threat and not everything can be solved by filling it with bullets. Twenty one Spartans died in the Requiem offensive and in their words; twenty one too many."

"Who's on the obituary?" Fowler asked, just out of curiosity.

Both others listened carefully, displaying a mix of anger, sadness. Bailey hung her head in her hands while Brett just sighed and shook his head.

"Estley-Bethel…Dunlap…Macrae…Costabile…DeMarco,"

Hearing the leader of Fireteam Majestic's name, Fowler balled his fist. "Fuck…He was a good man."

"The point is that HIGHCOM feels that their funds can be put elsewhere for more useful purposes than to make as many Spartans as possible. It costs the same amount for a whole Helljumper platoon to be outfitted with gear. If we're going to be parallel to ODSTs, then we need to prove to the generals, the admirals and the politicians that every Spartan rolled off the assembly line from here on out is a worthwhile investment."

"And that's where we come in. The Spartan branch is retasking all those not on active missions to help babysit the newbies. It's not just here and _Infinity_ , but every other base with active Spartan bases is having this overhaul. Lots of big names are the instructors…us, our other teams Regal and Basilisk. Even heard that Osiris might join in… but last I heard, they're all the way out at Selkirk, chasing down another elite warlord."

"We best not keep the boss waiting," Fowler grabbed everyone's tray, including Austal's soda. He gave a glare since he wasn't quite done, but didn't say anything.

"Hey I'll catch up," Marcus jerked a thumb towards the personal quarters, "Tyrant cleared me to arrive late to the briefing and that someone's trying to get ahold of me. I'll be there shortly."

"I bet you I know who it is and it's the kind of person who will come before a mission," Fowler smirked. Bailey curiously looked at both of them.

"Shut your mouth." Austal rolled his eyes, "And get your ass down there."

* * *

"This is your target," Lusana brought up a hologram of an armored sangheili in the heavy armor, "His name is Turz 'Xiva and he leads the Vahkai, an ancient order of elites that uphold their people's traditions. He is considered an extremist and although he works with Jul 'Mdama, it is believed that the two are not on good terms."

Before him stood a group of about twenty Spartans. All of them were new to the deployment of _Vociferous_ and would be staffed as its first contingent. They would then be deployed across various worlds to conduct specialized missions with each different and adhering to their best skillsets.

"Doesn't look so tough," One of the Spartans said, earning the chuckle from the rest of the group.

Tony chose to ignore the hotheaded comment and continued, "Your Warzone mission is to insert into the Temple and destroy 'Xiva. Now his lair is a fortress with a full army of guards and plenty of armor. I'll let your team's handlers do most of the briefing, but this particular simulation will end once 'Xiva has been defeated or there are none of you left to complete the mission."

"And if we win?" That same Spartan asked.

"Then there would be nothing of me to teach you. It would seem that your success would be unparalleled. The UNSC would make fine Spartans and rookies for that matter."

"Sir…I'm sorry sir…Captain, may I ask what this is all about?"

"You are all likely wondering why Captain Barrett summoned you to the War Games decks at such an ungodly hour, but this is necessary. I'm sure everyone here has heard of the less than stellar reports of the aftermath on Requiem. Many of the high up officers are questioning the effectiveness of the program and the politicians are crying out at the tremendous amounts of funding being poured in."

"That's all they do…grumble," Someone murmured.

"Yes that is true, but it won't be a laughing matter once recruitment and production of Spartan fours are reduced and completely cut off."

More murmurs from the crowd followed.

"So in order to convince them otherwise, it needs to be proven that all the effort being put in is producing optimal results. You are the best of humanity's warriors and have to be on your toes. Every day there's a new threat be it Covenant, human or our new Promethean enemies. If an all-out conflict blows up, we're going to be the first and last line of defense for the UNSC."

"You're the first of the Spartans onboard this ship. All twenty five of you," Pine stepped up beside him, "There's another twenty set to arrive in May and another twenty in August who will be right where you are now. All across every Spartan operations center, there are guys like us who are giving this branch an overhaul so that it meets the standard of the elite special forces that we are."

Lusana continued, "You will have the rest of the day off to plan, prepare and even relax if you would like because some of the drills and tests that we've been given for you are going to test every aspect of your abilities. Report to the War Games deck by oh six hundred in full gear. If you do not show up fully prepared then you will be going into battle without whatever you forgot."

"Sir," One of the Spartans spoke up, "Oh six hundred is in eight and a half hours,"

"We can start now if you'd like." After hearing that, there was no further protest from the crowd.

He dismissed them and they all headed back out towards the general quarters. "Handlers, a word?" A few Spartans stopped and headed right over.

"Remember that when Eon and I are watching, you're on the hot seat too. All of you are responsible for feeding new intelligence to your teams. Make sure to account for every detail, but don't spend all day overanalyzing the situation. When the operation's over, we should be done reviewing your teams' performance and give it a try ourselves. Any questions?" They shook their heads, "Alright. Dismissed."

* * *

"I'm sorry I'm not able to be home right now," Austal said. "I'm still missing a briefing, so I gotta make this quick. Anyway you said you have big news?"

"Yeah," Gabrielle sighed on the screen. She was in their house with the bathrobe he had gotten her for Christmas. Her blue eyes shone with worry, "Well it's more like something happening,"

"Well you can share it," He pressed, "We're married remember?"

"I don't know if you'll like it,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Austal got the feeling that something was about to take the turn for the worse. It seemed like an eternity and he still continued to sit and wait on the matter. "Listen, if there's something you need to tell me, then let it out. I'm not going to stop until I find out. You know that," He gestured to himself, "I know that."

She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes, "I took a pregnancy test last Monday,"

"And?" He never missed a beat.

"It came out positive,"

* * *

 **Apologies for such a long wait, it's been nearly four months since I last worked on this story. I got a new job that has erratic hours plus I had to tweak a large part of the later plotline since a new idea had come into my head. Big thanks to everyone still following and reviewing. Things are going to change here with the rather recent disappointing performances of the Spartans. Eon's here to set them straight while they await additional information on 'Xiva and the Vahkai.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	18. War Games II

**UNSC _Vociferous_ in orbit over Ascella IV**

 **March 19, 2558**

The observation center was just behind the handling operations area where the handlers Lusana had lectured were at their stations. Some were chatting about to one another to share information and others had kept a keen eye on the sensors that the overflying drone was providing.

The simulation was about to start.

Lusana and the rest of Eon were huddled around a central holotank with a dozen displays of different feeds for the five fireteams partaking in the op.

"Let's begin. Roll out Covenant module four hundred and fifty two, mode Tango."

"Initiating Warzone simulation," The announcer spoke in a monotone voice, "Fight through objectives of increasing difficulty."

It began. The Spartans were set to land in a map called Sanctum, with a large desert half and a large jungle half on a sangheili planet. A large temple was in the center with the upper floors being where 'Xiva was said to be hiding. The Spartans would drop in pods, take the UNSC outpost to the west and begin their assault on the temple.

It all went fairly smoothly; there was a lot of cannon fodder of grunts, jackals and a few of the more inexperienced elites. Although they outnumbered the Spartans five to one, they were skilled enough to eliminate the occupants of the garage where they would briefly asses the situation and formulate a plan to take the temple.

"Hey," The rest of Eon turned to see a breathless Austal at the doorway, "Sorry I'm late boss. Call took a little longer than I thought,"

"You're on uniform duty like I said," Lusana smoothly replied before noticing that he was a little fidgety, "Everything alright?"

"Yeah! Just excited for the simulation!"

Fowler shot him a look, "Since when does auditing Warzone sims excite you? If I remember right, you bitched the last time we lost because the other team wrecked our core! Your words were in exact; I fuckin hate Warzone!"

"You try defending a core against guys with rocket launchers while you just have a half dead energy sword!"

Pine put a hand in between them, even though he knew it was just more of the duo's playful bickering, "You're not participating in this Warzone Austal, you're auditing it to see how the new Spartans are performing."

"Right," Marcus threw a death glare at Brett before taking the offered datapad, "What's my duty?"

"You're to observe your specialty, specifically the recon."

Staring at the screen, he had found an error within just a few seconds, "For starters, Fireteam Zephyr looks to be designated as the point squad and they're bunched too close together. All it would take to wipe them out is a single wraith shot." Staring back at the screen, he flipped the viewpoint to another Spartan's VISR. Transcript rolled on the side, showing what the members were saying to one another.

From the looks of it, Zephyr and a second fireteam named Dragon were the point teams. The base had been liberated and a pair of warthogs had been found still operational. The teams were getting ready to head out. There were rumors of a requisition system for powerful weapons being installed in the simulator for the next update, but not much else on it had been released. They had to go with what they had at the time.

"They're gearing up,"

Lusana looked over, "Rolling out Round 2 with a trio of Ghost Marauders. Analyze the data from the simulators to take the temple."

At his command, three gold plated ghosts were dropped off by a phantom and with a full compliment of Covenant troops.

Dragon spotted them first and marked their three targets for the warthog crews.

"We'll draw the foot mobiles out. The alpha bravos on the fifty fours are yours,"

"Hmm," Fowler's eyes lit up and he gave off an impressed smirk, "That's good. Keep the vehicle on vehicle combat strict. Although Dragon needs the assistance of Volt and what the hell is Zephyr doing scouting the temple? The hostiles don't spawn there until the third wave!"

"That's a big error." Pine pointed out, "They're heading deep into enemy territory already without backup. If this was real and the temple was occupied, they'd be slaughtered."

"I could see their idea," Bailey added, "Well…even though it is a simulation and way different from the real thing, they might be having an assessment on the terrain."

The men stared at her as if she spoke another language, but Pine got it first.

"She does have a point. While they may have already done sims on this map, having a knowledge of the layout of your target structure while it's inactive does prove to be advantageous. Even though it's not a traditional practice, especially if the real thing is crawling with bad guys, I have to applaud them on the unorthodox tactic. Wish we would have thought of that."

"We played by the rules remember?" Fowler said.

"That's true,"

"Let's give them a little surprise." Lusana checked the progress on the main battle. The other four fireteams were still locked in combat against the three ghost marauders. The hogs had taken a beating, but managed to barrage one with chaingun fire to tear it into pieces. One elite had ignited a plasma grenade and tossed it towards the closest one. The bluish orb stuck to the vehicle's hood and in that split second; the gunner had seen it coming, shouting to his comrades. He had made it off, but the Spartan riding shotgun hadn't noticed, prompting the driver to shove him off and quickly back away to prevent anyone else from being caught in the explosion. The warthog was completely destroyed and the driver had been killed, but there was only one Spartan casualty.

That was way better than three.

The last warthog was also on its last legs, so the driver of that one kept it further back to allow its gunner to pepper and suppress the area with fire. Many of the grunts had thought the retreat was intentional because they were damaged and wandered out of cover. The Spartan manning the chaingun easily cut them down. As the smart ones stayed in cover, another fireteam came through the narrow passageways to their left to flush them out. The first victims fell to rifle fire and a pair of elites had jumped from cover in the open to run across. They quickly fell to the warthog.

In the meantime, Fireteam Dragon managed to corner the final ghost and brought it down with a few well placed frag grenades.

"Whew," Dragon lead breathed when the stragglers had been eliminated, "We barely survived that one,"

"This is ridiculous!" Fowler threw up his arms in frustration, "Barely?! Either you do survive or you don't! There's no gray area!"

"I'd actually disagree with you on that one brother,"

"Elaborate…please."

"Later," Eon's attention was turned to the third round, where the Spartan teams were assigned to take the temple and defend it from a Covenant assault.

"Holy," Brett's eyes widened at the opposition. "They better have better stuff than a beat up hog,"

The Covenant opposition included dozens of grunts, jackals, elites and even a hunter pair standing in between them and the temple. At the tunnel in the base, a single wraith emerged, spitting out a white blob that hung in the air for a moment before crashing down where a pair of Spartans stood a second before. They didn't stand a chance.

All of Eon cringed when they saw the duo get "vaporized". The death toll just went up. Nearly a fifth of the attacking Spartan force had been wiped out already.

"Wow." Bailey's voice was laced with uncertainty, "Is this for real?"

"This is some of the shit we faced,"

"Like Providence,"

The conversation immediately went to the wraith, easily the biggest threat on the field.

"Let's throw them a bone. Put a scorpion in the garage,"

"Yes sir."

The simulation had gone smoothly. After taking a few more Spartans, the temple had come under their control. They had dug in nicely to repel an assault even Eon had doubts about doing themselves.

However it fell apart when the simulation on 'Xiva had come up where they had to intercept his phantom before he escaped. They were able to use the scorpion to break through the armored line of banshees and two wraiths. A sniper had lined him up when he emerged to run to his vehicle, but had missed thrice. Once the dropship had exited the airspace, the op was over with an automatic failure.

Over a period of several hours; Eon went over the recordings in the sim's theater feature and watched over the various team performances.

While there was no one single flaw that compromised the mission, it was the combination of many mistakes.

The Vahkai's base was heavily guarded, but it wasn't impenetrable. Foot patrols could easily be avoided and all five teams agreed on bypassing the outer groups, knowing that they had roughly a half hour until the reinforcements would arrive to assist.

It could be a monumental decision since most of the Covenant groups consisted of easy targets that weren't suspecting the Spartans' presence. Eliminating them was a trivial task, but it wasted both time and ammunition. None of the teams suspected what stronger resistance was ahead, so they all opted to take a stealthier route and avoid their notice.

Further ahead, the dry desert terrain gave way to a more temperate and lush one. Grass weaved in the slight breeze and a dense forest lay in the background. Beyond the ancient temple erected in the center, more heavily armed Covenant guarded the camp.

Through the end of the op, the teams decided to split and cause a diversion just half a kilometer away. With the newly acquired scorpion tank, three of the fireteams charged forward, dishing out immense damage and drawing the attention of nearly the entire base.

Two wraiths had responded to the call, showing their rounded hulls and were subsequently blasted apart by the sheer power of the M990 smoothbore. The tank's driver laid several more shots into the main camp to cause chaos. Everything from buildings to infantry exploded.

At the same time, the second fireteam that had split off had established an overwatch position in order to eliminate 'Xiva. Their designated marksman, an Army sniper by the name of Jones was tasked with taking the shot.

All in all, despite their mistakes coming back to bite them with the patrols attacking from behind, it seemed as if the mission was going to be a success. 'Xiva's phantom appeared over the ridgeline and made its way down to a pad where it was partially sheltered with the wraiths and a couple of sangheili wielding fuel rods. Their weapons were easily absorbed thanks to the thick armor, but it had done a number and prevented the tank from advancing too far.

Jones had 'Xiva lined up in her scope ready to cap his head off, but had to temporarily take her eyes off his position when another patrol had appeared from behind, causing the rest of the fireteam to establish a defensive position in order to hold them off. By the time they had been eliminated, the Vahkai leader was already boarding his phantom in a hasty escape. The scorpion tried to shoot it down, however the cannon's loading was too lengthy and missed at such a long distance.

Eon had not finished their analysis, so they had given the other fireteams the rest of the day off with reminders to go over their recordings and submit a proposal for improvement in what they saw was flawed.

Right now, it wasn't looking good. The media had over exaggerated on the Spartans' recent lack of success and now much of the civilian population was beginning to question their effectiveness. While it was clear that the Spartan Twos and Threes were valuable; the Fours were still significantly less formidable.

"Has anyone seen Austal?" Fowler had asked the next morning when the majority of Eon, minus their Four was present at a table for breakfast. Ever since writing his own feedback on the Vociferous' Spartan group, he had not been acting like Austal. His mind was somewhere else.

"He better show the hell up," Two growled, "I'm not getting up at six in the damn morning and finding out he gets a free pass to sleep in."

"Whatever it is, I'll deal with it," Lusana finished, "It's up to me to decide what happens, but I need us to be on point. The last thing we need right now is for the critics to be hypocrites. We need to focus on the audit."

"With all due respect boss," Pine took a swig of orange juice, "What's the point in preparing everyone for the Vahkai if we're going to spearhead its destruction?"

"What happens if they come back?"

"Fair enough,"

"Hey guys," Everyone looked back up to see a tired-looking Austal with a tray of breakfast food. "Nobody gonna offer me a seat?"

"Austal," Lusana greeted, "I didn't see you at the briefing this morning,"

"Sorry boss. Got caught up in something."

"Nothing personal right?" It was definitely out of the ordinary when he missed a briefing. While under normal circumstances, he would've punished it by doing extra pushups or bear crawls, but he knew each Spartan worked out well past the exhaustion point of a normal human and the briefing he had missed had nothing important to relay on what they already knew.

"Nah,"

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Do you have your progress report finished?"

"No."

"You had all night to finish this. I thought I made it clear that not meeting our margins or having delays is not an option."

"Will you all shut up for once?" Austal snapped, giving everyone a harsh glare, "Look I know I fucked up and I'm sorry about that. Boss, I'll have the report done in an hour."

"You have half," Lusana declared, "But you can get yourself an extra half if you tell me what is going on. Since you began to evaluate last night, you haven't been yourself. I want to know why."

"Very generous of you sir," Austal ate quickly, "I'm still passing."

He scooped up his trash and made his way back up to the serving line to dump his tray without another word.

"RIT taught him well," Pine chuckled.

Bailey opened her mouth to ask what that was, but quickly figured it out; Resistance to Interrogation.

"RIT taught me a few things as well," Lusana stood up, "Let's assemble everyone in the War Games simulation in sixty. I'm going to find out what has Austal on edge,"

* * *

 **We all know what's going on with Austal! How do you think everyone's going to react to his news?**

 **There's a little error on the previous two chapter, stating that the year was 2553, it is actually 2558. Sorry for the confusion.**

 **Happy 117 day everyone. Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	19. War Games III

**UNSC _Vociferous_ in orbit over Ascella IV**

 **March 18, 2558**

Lusana cursed when he had lost Austal's trail. Sure, he could track him via the Spartan neural interface, but he didn't have the means or reasoning to do that.

He reached down to his buzzing datapad and pulled up the message.

Tyrant had gotten back to him with a new report on the Vahkai. Sources included multiple sangheili experts including Doctors Luther Mann, Evan Phillips along with a couple of names he didn't know. There was even a Spartan as a benefactor; Vale.

Attached at the bottom of the file was an additional report. The drones scouting over Ascella's barren surface had caught the signature of a single lich carrying a phantom moving over the planet's dark side before descending on top of the desert.

The report matched the phantom that 'Xiva was using to move off Jul 'Mdama's grid. It suggested that he was conducting a patrol out in former human space to scavenge for salvage, but really moved off to a secret installation where the Vahkai were plotting his overthrow.

It wasn't clear on when 'Xiva was planning to leave, but it was finally tracked to a plateau where a section of a forerunner installation were just starting to be unearthed by the glassing. Ascella was planned to be fully destroyed when the Covenant had attacked years ago, but they quickly called off the operation when they realized relics were hidden underneath its surface. The UNSC had taken big advantage of this, launching a nuclear trap that obliterated the flagship and put their battle network in disarray. The task force sent to mop up the stragglers hadn't realized the Covenant recovered quicker than anticipated and the momentum just as easily slid over to their enemy's side. The damage had already been done; the installation's entrance was cut off, sealing several excavation teams inside and without their commander, the remains of the fleet left without bothering to glass the rest of the planet.

Now the Vahkai were ever so curious to discover what the Covenant had sought. So they begun to finish what was started.

Lusana called all Spartan fireteams, plus his own to meet in the War Games simulator. The next demonstration plus the exercises would have to wait.

* * *

"All of you might be wondering on why we put off the next simulation until this is complete. We have a high value former Covenant target lurking somewhere on this plateau close to the Forerunner premise. He is the intended target that we have used in our simulations to get a better outlook on their tactics and the best way to counter them without exposing ourselves to danger. This warlord is highly unpredictable and has been confirmed presence at Requiem in some of the most volatile areas. He will do whatever it means to evade capture and we can only assume that he has a large force at his disposal. Expect intensive resistance the whole way."

"Does this mean that we're not to submit our corrective reports?" One Spartan asked.

"No. I still expect those in before we kick off tomorrow at oh five hundred. We'll be reading them once the operation is completed."

"Our hostile has barricaded himself somewhere on the base grounds. We will begin a two pronged assault across the plateau and two fireteams, my own and another one will be inserted in the fray to capture 'Xiva. Remember to those that are on air support. No aircraft leave the airspace. Disable them. Our target's no good to us dead."

The ride down to the surface was done in silence strictly at five the next morning. A fleet of pelicans, carrying a couple of warthogs and a pair of scorpion tanks came in a clustered formation with the broadsword squadron scouting ahead and escorting them to watch for enemy interceptors.

Eon sat in the bay; going over the final checks of their gear. Pine and Fowler were lightly sleeping after filing the last of the reports from the corrective actions the Spartan fireteams had submitted the night prior. Bailey was fidgeting with her helmet and Austal kept spinning one of his two Sting knives around in his hand.

"Is everyone ready?"

Green lights lit up on his HUD.

"Now Austal. I believe you have something to tell us?"

Marcus had figured over the night that he wasn't going to get away with it forever. He'd have to divulge the secret sooner than later.

The Spartan made a slashing gesture; a silent indication that what he wanted to say stayed in the cabin.

When everyone removed their helmets and shut off their microphones; he gave a defeated sigh and met every one of his teammates' eyes.

"I owe you all an apology for being blunt and snappy yesterday." He started, "I've just been having a hard time back home. I never meant to take things out on you guys. We have a mission and I promise my head will be in the game."

The rest of the team remained silent, ready for him to continue.

"I think I might be a father. Found this out the other day."

"Congratulations," Bailey said, sauntering over for a brief hug, "I mean…that's a huge step right?"

"Do you know if it's a boy or girl?"

"No."

"Pregnant huh?" Fowler whistled, "I so cannot wait to be an uncle!"

"Things can get a little complicated when one of the baby's parents is a Spartan," Lusana explained the bittersweet mood, "The first Spartans that were augmented had a suppressed sexual drive, although it's unclear on whether they can have children or not. There was one two that retired to start a family."

"So haven't the augmentations been improved to negate all of the risks that the twos underwent?"

"Some have and the procedures we got were much less intense than theirs. Much of theirs were surgically implanted, while the threes and us fours have it done by drugs and safer surgeries. The effects are less powerful, which leaves the MJOLNIR armor to close the gap between the effective skillsets."

Pine nodded, "Spartans being the parents of children is incredibly rare. Our unit; the thirty seventh is one of the select few groups in where the Spartans assigned actually have families and a more lenient fraternization protocol than others. The medical personnel are also studying the effects of our children, on how they inherit our augmentations. We call them Spartan babies."

Bailey looked intrigued, "So what's the risk of having a kid if you are allowed to have them?"

"It depends. Many of the augmentations we receive can cause serious damage to the baby," Lusana explained. "Every Spartan's genetic makeup is different, so the process has to be carefully crafted for each individual. Many of which are irreversible and can cause serious birth defects for the child."

"So you're worried you might have crippled your unborn son or daughter?"

Austal nodded.

"There's also the risk that even if nothing ends up wrong; the Spartan baby would have inherited some of his augmented traits and not really understand how strong they are."

"There's significantly less risk if the Spartan parent is the mother, as she would be able to handle it better." He explained, "If the Spartan parent is the father…there's a possibility that Gabrielle could die before or during the baby's birth."

No one spoke again as they contemplated the severity of the situation. Austal put his head in his hands.

"The hell have I done?"

"Hey," Lusana chastised, "Chances are that nothing will be wrong and she will deliver your baby just fine and you'll have a healthy son or daughter."

"It's not that…it's with all these Covenant. Vahkai…Prometheans…even the damn innies. Why the hell is everything trying to kill us?" Austal wondered, "I taught Gabrielle how to shoot and defend herself, but now there's the two of them."

"I know." The Eon lead put a hand on his friend and teammate's shoulder, "I was like this with my own wife when she was pregnant with my own son. I wondered on why everything happened."

"I keep on asking myself with all of this violence going on. Covenant, Prometheans, innies all finding creative ways to kill humans…especially civilians. It seems like a crisis starts every day. Why would I ever want to bring a kid into this kind of world?"

Nobody spoke again for a few minutes until uncharacteristically it was Fowler who broke the silence.

"Marcus…you know that I'm no father and I can't say I've felt what you're going through, but you also have to remember that with all the threats to the UNSC and all the civilians its sworn to protect that we're the good guys and we'll fight for those who can't defend themselves until either the threat is neutralized or we die. We're not dead yet."

Austal nodded.

"So when this is done, you're going back to your house on New Corsica and you're going to kiss your wife when you come in the front door and tell her how excited you are at becoming a father. You'll make an amazing parent...I know this because you'll even deliver the baby if you have to!"

This got a chuckle from everyone else as the tension was finally broken.

"Wait…you've delivered a baby before?" Bailey asked.

"Twice during my days as a pararescueman. I was twenty years old for both times."

"Damn," Pine said, "I didn't even know that."

"Anyways, even if something does happen to you…you've got us. We're family remember? We look after one another…protect one another and keep on pounding through the tough times."

Lusana chuckled, "I think you just took away my motivational speech I was about to give in preparation for this op."

Everyone laughed at that just as the door to the cockpit slid open and the crew chief stuck his head in, "Spartans…we're two minutes out."

"Personal talk over," Tony's icy voice was back…the same one he used when leading the operation. "Everyone's ready?"

He got a green light from all four others.

"Let's lock and load. The sooner we put 'Xiva in handcuffs the sooner we can finish our mission and head home."

* * *

 **So much of the tension resolved and Austal finally delivering the news. Things are almost over and they can head home.**

 **Nope.**

 **Their mission is far from done.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	20. Stranded I

**Iconium Plateau, Ascella IV, Ascella System**

 **March 19, 2558**

Spartan Fireteam Volt carefully advanced forward in the twin scorpion tanks heading for the large metallic angular structure that jutted out of the shifting sands. The terrain was quite desert-like, resembling the Sahara on Earth with dunes that rose and fell at the gust of the winds.

Just ahead lay a trio of wraiths with their mortar cannons blooming like flowers. They crackled with bluish sparks as their drivers calculated the movements of the opposition before firing blobs of white destruction into the air.

"Volt Lead! Take the first one!"

One of the scorpions backed up, treads kicking up sand as the shot landed right where it had once been. He maneuvered behind a particularly large dune, positioning the vehicle just enough so that he was able to expose just the cannon above.

The practice was called hull down and was used ever since tanks were sent into warfare. Concept was simple, position the vehicle just behind the crest of an elevated landmark such as a hill, leaving nothing open to enemy fire except for the main gun. This way, it greatly reduced the risk of direct fire from enemy positions while allowing near-same accuracy.

Wraiths were awful in countering this tactic since the mortars were designed to fire out rather than up. They would be forced to move in close to allow a shot at hitting their opposition, which also meant that the scorpions would have to either relocate or crest the hill. Cresting exposed its more vulnerable underside, which the Covenant commander must've figured out because he ordered his lance of tanks to advance.

"They're advancing position!"

"Let's fall back. Once they clear that hill, we'll blast them."

The two tanks quickly retreated as Volt Lead pulled up the drone footage. He centered the feed on their position and saw that the wraiths had returned to their original position.

"Hmm," Volt Three mused over the comms, "They didn't buy it."

"I have an idea, switch to sabots."

"Copy."

Unlike the standard HE rounds the M820 usually carried, the sabot rounds were designed for pure armor penetration, using caps to keep the round centered in the chamber. When fired, it looked as if massive fins would explode out of the barrel.

"Relink the feed of the tank profiles onto our HUDs."

It took just a moment, but on his and Volt Three's, there were three red outlines on the wraith profiles. Now it was only if the sand was light enough. Otherwise, the round would simply bury itself in the hill.

"I'll take the one on the left."

"It's locked."

"On three."

"One."

"Two."

"Three," Volt One squeezed the trigger, dimly aware of the firing sound of the cannon being like sitting just underneath a huge explosion.

The sabots made short work of the sand barrier, dissolving their brief cover in a big puff, but their plan had worked. Their shots hit game and two of the wraiths were still intact, albeit in bad shape. One of them must've had their anti-grav repulsors busted as it struggled to rise above the ground before the generators gave out again.

Volt Three loaded his tank again, this time with HE rounds and blasted the final wraith to hell.

"Pick the drone feed back up. I want more targets,"

"Copy." Two brought the screen back up and they all recoiled in surprise when the first five seconds composed of a pair of glowing missiles that closed in on the unmanned vehicle before the connection was lost.

Two glanced up at where it had once been to see a small puffy explosion in the sky. Similarly, other fireteams were all radioing in that their overwatch had been neutralized.

"It wasn't Covenant! We have the whole place in our sights and have seen no triple-A!"

"What the hell was that?"

"Vociferous," Lusana's voice came in on the main channel, "Any covie aircraft?"

"Negative, we're watching the airspace and haven't detected another aircraft entering the atmosphere since you went down."

"Spartans keep your eyes peeled. We have an unidentified hostile that shot down our drone. Let's mark the rendezvous point to Hotel Zulu One Six, less of a chance our mystery missiles can come out."

"Copy that."

"All teams. Outer defenses have been neutralized. Eon is inbound."

* * *

Captain Barrett swiftly entered the Spartan operations center and quickly made her way over to the main tablet, where a trio of Spartans was busy over the main hologram. Their eyes ran across the hundreds of information scrolling down the screens as they continued to make adjustments to the handers overseeing each squad.

Barrett didn't know why having a bunch of people guiding Spartan teams had to be augmented as one, but she wasn't in control of that part and thus put it aside.

"What's the situation planetside?"

One of the operators in his mid-twenties looked up and promptly gave a casual salute, "Eon's in the nest now, trying to nab their target. We had an overwatching drone scanning the skies, but an unknown hostile has taken it out. They don't want to risk another one due to the fear it would meet the same fate."

"Covenant?"

"We've scanned the place twice hours before kicking off the op. No triple A was detected going in or out."

"It had to be something. Banshees?"

"Fireteam Volt had destroyed their air depot during the assault and all known aircraft were blown to pieces."

"It had to be something," The captain said, "Did you manage to save the drone's feed before it got swatted?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Pull it up."

He grabbed a separate tablet and quickly brought the appropriate camera up onscreen. There was a big red indicator on the top left, showing that it had been interrupted and the optics were incapable of further function.

"Fast forward to fifteen seconds prior to shootdown."

The two of them watched as the drone continued its lazy high altitude circle of the general compound. From the looks of it, the Spartans had rapidly advanced, cutting through the Vahkai's first line of defenses and rumbled onward to the main Forerunner building that sat by itself in the desert.

Barrett's eyes flashed over to what looked like an angular shape in the top right corner of the camera. A moment later, there was a streak of light that homed right on them before the feed had cut out.

"Go back and pause it."

"Copy."

They studied the images that blurred out. The surface of the craft seemed metallic and the silver rendered it virtually invisible when looking upwards at the sun, so that explained on why there was no visual.

What bothered her was the fact that it didn't show up on the sensors either.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess, but that looks like hardlight pulse or forerunner energy."

"Are we dealing with prometheans?"

"No idea. But I wouldn't be surprised. This is a forerunner base after all."

Their conversation was cut off by Lusana's voice over the radio. There was still gunfire heard in the background and the growl of a sangheili.

"We did it! We got 'Xiva!"

Everyone in the ops center breathed a sigh of relief upon the update from Eon.

"Pulling back all Spartan teams!"

"Negative!" Lusana's radio crackled. There was the staccato of gunfire and whizzing of plasma in the background, "Unidentified hostile has shot down our surveillance drone and could be watching the skies for additional aircraft. Have all the Spartan teams secure an LZ at Hotel Zulu One Six. We're going to fly north to try and lure it away?"

"That's into enemy territory. Are you sure you want to do that with the objective?"

"We have no other choice. There's no telling what this hostile anti-air is capable of and it's possible we're likely to encounter it again."

"Keep your comms up," The Spartan operator said, "If anything goes wrong, say the word and an additional three fireteams are ready to be hot dropped in on your location."

"Copy."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Eon's pelican accelerated north above Ascella's hot sands as its pilot kept his eyes glued to the radar screen. Just another few miles and a squadron of broadswords would be arriving to meet them and give an escort back to Vociferous.

Turz 'Xiva sat on one side of the aircraft, his weapons stripped and armor battered since it took Pine, Fowler and Austal to have to submit him so that Lusana could apply a sedative. He had since come to his senses after being dragged back onto the aircraft and remained silent, but gave off a piercing stare to each of the five Spartans in the cabin.

He tugged at his bonds for the tenth time in the last five minutes. They had done a thorough job in making sure he didn't escape.

Expectant of a warrior's death, 'Xiva was disappointed and angered once again that the Spartans had failed to live up to his expectations. Here he was trussed up like a colo roast and going to await likely some stupid trial that he didn't care for. Although he did admit that it was rather embarrassing to find himself rotting in a cell by humans.

'Xiva participated in the war against humanity during its entire nearly thirty year span. In its beginning; he and other sangheili had believed that humans had armored exoskeletons as part of their body. Much of it was no match for Covenant plasma, but research teams had continued to study human corpses to learn more about their new enemy, which turned out to be quite larger than they imagined. When the jiralhanae attacked a planet called Harvest, many of the Covenant were under the belief that it was humanity's actual homeworld.

Further examination revealed that humans were actually quite fragile creatures. It warranted the appropriate insult nishum, relative to the rather annoying intestinal parasites that had armored shells to protect their vulnerable worm-like insides.

The insult stuck and continued to endure even after the war had ended.

Most humans didn't even understand what it meant and thus weren't angered by it. The same went for the sangheili. 'Xiva didn't really know what a split-lip or gator was.

He was brought out of his stupor by the Spartans as two of them shared a round of laughter followed by a ritual of punching each other's' fists before slamming the crooks of their elbows against one another, pulling fists back and yelling in triumph. The others seemed to be looking on amusingly, although it was impossible to tell due to their helmets.

To him…Spartans were the biggest nishum of all. True, they fought much better than their normal human counterparts, but they were still people.

It was told during the Covenant's reign that Spartans...or demons were reincarnated human soldiers that were slain in battle and sought vengeance. The superstition was common among the sangheili.

'Xiva didn't think of them that way and knew right away it was not true. He also thought it was pitiful on how the Covenant reacted to their presence. Kig-yar and unggoy usually fled in panic although that was typical of them. The bigger races; his own and the jiralhanae often hurled themselves at the Spartans with reckless abandon in the intent of brawling over the glory of killing one. The death of a demon was rare, but it did happen and the soldier who was responsible for such a feat was typically rendered invincible.

"I see that our guest hasn't been much of a talker," Pine said from his seat, "You busy meditating over there big guy?"

"Maybe he's crying,"

"He better be crying," Fowler said, "'Cause he got his little bitch-ass handed to him."

"You tell him bro," Austal encouraged, "For a guy that big, he wasn't that hard to take out."

"Me and Pine were holding that fucker down! What do you mean not that hard?"

"Either way. I'm two and oh against him."

"I am but one drop of water in an everlasting river of change," 'Xiva sneered, breaking his silence to surprise the Spartans.

For a moment, he enjoyed the disbelieving looks on their faces.

Lusana chuckled, "All I see outside is sand,"

This incited laughter from the rest of the group, which only served to anger the Vahkai even further.

The explosion came without warning, jolting the pelican sharply enough that sent Bailey the only one not strapped in at the time, tumbling to the floor.

"Blake!" Austal cried.

"We've been hit!"

"Mayday!" The pilot's voice cracked over the comms, "Pelican Two Sixer going down!"

The engines let out a loud whine as the craft pitched downwards and they felt the drop in their stomachs from the rapid uncontrollable descent.

"Shit!" They heard the pilot scream.

No windows were in the cabin, so the impact also came at a sudden. Each being, Spartan and sangheili felt as if an entire warthog had plowed into their bodies at full force, exploding into sharp pain. They tried to scream out, but their consciousness was dipping and spiking. Their bodies protested, despite the determination.

The pelican slid on the sand, creating a plume of gray dust from behind as it finally slowed to settle in the narrow confines of two steep valleys. The friction from the sand, caused its upside to flip over and everything tumbled about inside like a drying machine.

Austal saw one impact literally tear the rear hatch open before the cabin's bottom rushed to meet his helmet.

The impact sent him into a world of blackness. His last thoughts immediately were of his wife and unborn baby.

* * *

 **Now here is where things are about to take a turn for the worse.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**


	21. Stranded II

**Iconium Plateau, Ascella IV, Ascella System**

 **March 19, 2558**

Ross Pine stirred, grinding his teeth together as he felt a rather nasty knot forming on his head. He opened his eyes to find himself lying almost upside down in the pelican's cabin. Like all of the Spartans, his harness had only been built to accustom standard UNSC Marines. His big half-ton frame had shredded the belts and restraints when the dropship crashed.

Looking at his timer; he saw that they had been taking a dirt nap for almost an hour since he estimated the time they were shot down.

Despite the risks, Lusana had ordered an extraction through heavily contested airspace where they now paid the price.

They should have known better ever since 'Xiva had effortlessly surrendered himself over to them when they stormed his chambers.

His sniper rifle lay in its cradle at the cabin's end. The force from the impact had bent the barrel at a fifty degree angle. The optics he had tinkered with to fine tune to his preference had been shattered, covering the floor in tiny slivers of sparkling glass.

He cursed and drew his sidearm, stepping out and looking down.

The prone forms of Austal, Bailey and Fowler laid on the floor as 'Xiva's harness had miraculously held him in place. Had it failed, his armor combined with the jarring impact would've inflicted serious injury to his back.

"You better thank human tech for once in your miserable life," Pine muttered to the Vahkai as he bent down to check on the other Spartans.

Austal jerked when the resident sniper put a hand on his head.

"Wakey wakey sunshine,"

"Fuck off."

Despite the condescending remark; Pine knew that it was merely a playful bickering jab, "You alright?"

"Did we have one too many Mai Tais? And what was the name of that girl I hit on? Tessa right?"

Pine sighed, "I call shit on that. You're married to Gabrielle and about to be a dad remember?"

"Oh yeah," Austal sat up and took off his helmet. There was a nice red streak of blood that was dripping down his nose. "I'll check the pilots."

As he went up into the cockpit, Pine checked and stirred the other two.

"The hell happened?" Fowler swatted aside his teammate's outstretched hand and helped himself up.

"We were hit,"

"Crew's dead," Austal wiped a dressing on his nose, which seemed to stop the bleeding before grabbing his helmet and swabbing it inside. The visor had a big spatter, which obstructed his vision.

"Where's the boss?"

All four Spartans glanced around; Lusana was nowhere to be seen. His seat harness was still present, although like all of theirs; his half ton body had effortlessly ripped them apart.

"Fowler, Bailey, check on our guest. Austal, with me outside."

"Copy."

The hatch hadn't been jammed shut, despite overwhelming evidence that it should have from the crash. Even though it was intact, the power had been shut off, forcing both Spartans to wedge themselves and be able to push it open. Thankfully, the mechanisms hadn't been jammed and it opened with just a bit of effort.

On point, Austal stepped out, scanning the immediate area with his A9 in hand.

"All clear out here."

Pine followed him to the pelican's back. They had crashed into a narrow valley part underneath a rocky outcropping. The dusk sky was settling fast, putting on a beautiful orange glow overhead. Some smoke trailed from the starboard engines and parts of it glowed red as if still fresh from whatever shot them down.

It looked burned, but by plasma or fuel rod left a rather acrid smell and made a lot of thick smoke. Instead, whitish sparks danced on the damaged machine with no smoke visible.

Both Spartans noticed it; a small detail that would've been overlooked by most others.

"Whatever the hell shot the engine wasn't human or Covenant. There's nothing in our arsenal that can come out of the sky like that and the damage would be seen for miles if it was plasma."

Pine walked up to it, examining closer, "So then what is it?"

Another figure caught his attention and Austal's heart skipped a beat, "Boss!"

The urgency in his tone snapped Pine out of his musings and he ran to join him, who was kneeling down.

The upper body of Spartan Lusana was barely visible, as if he was buried underneath the sandy ground with his arms and torso sticking out.

He groaned when Marcus shouted his name and blinked twice to clear the dancing shapes out of his eyes.

"This ain't good," Pine said, "His body's trapped underneath the pelican,"

"What's going on?" Fowler asked, ducking underneath the exit with Bailey in tow. He glanced back at the questioning looks of his partners, "Oh right. 'Xiva's secure."

"Oh my god!" Bailey gasped, seeing Lusana trapped underneath, "Shit."

"It's…it's alright," Lusana coughed, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"Like hell we won't," Fowler went up to his side, "Alright. Bailey, get ready to pull him out. Guys, let's push the side."

Pine and Austal joined him on the pelican's ventral section while Bailey firmly grabbed both of Eon Lead's arms.

"Ready?"

"Go!"

"Three, two…one! Go!"

At once; the three men flexed their arms, planting their feet into the shifting ground, using all of their strength. At first, the big aircraft remained stubbornly on the ground before their strength prevailed and it dipped up, just ever so slightly.

Bailey had felt Lusana move a little, feeling a spark of hope, "He's moving guys!"

The three of them were continuing to strain themselves, being used to flipping warthogs and ghosts. A pelican was several times heavier than either of those vehicles.

Fowler let out an angry cry and activated his thrusters, followed by the other two. The jet blast from their packs send a torrent of sand in every direction, brewing their own micro sandstorm in the small valley. Had it not been for the helmets protecting them; their eyes would have been squeezed shut and still be unable to keep the grains from finding a way past their eyelids.

Lusana's alarming shout of protest caused the activity to stop.

"Guys, we're hurting him!"

They stopped their attempt and settled down to the ground.

There was a deep groan from the aircraft as it unexpectedly began to move on its own.

"Shit!" Ross moved to grab its side, but the weight was once again too much. "It's shifting."

Lusana grunted again, trying to wiggle out, "I'm still stuck."

"We can't call for an airlift," Fowler said, "Airspace is still too hot."

"Just take your time." Eon Lead said between ragged breaths, "I'm not…going anywhere."

"Get down!" Austal hissed. He had moved across the pit to the other side and began to pick up signature on his motion tracker.

The rest of Eon's camouflage units activated, save Lusana's and they melted into the background.

They heard it before they saw it; a humming chop that echoed over the valley. It didn't sound like any aircraft or vehicle they've heard.

"Covies got a new toy?"

"Whatever it is, it probably is not friendly," Pine gripped his pistol a little tighter, "Get into a defensive position."

From the south, the aircraft came into view. It was silvery metallic in appearance, with an orange fiery glow along elegant lines. To the back were two circular ailerons with sharp looking fins.

"That thing looks like it was designed by whoever made those promethean knights." Fowler was the first to blurt out his opinion.

"Can't be good if we have prometheans in the party."

The aircraft turned on a swivel as it hovered over the crash site before suddenly unleashing a barrage of lasers right down on Austal's position. He had been watching it and in the middle of dodging in time that it barely missed him. His shields flared and he backpedaled to another spot for cover.

"I've been made!"

"Weapons free!" Pine ordered, already emerging from his own spot and tapping bullets into the aircraft. The rounds glanced off its hull as he expected, but it was enough for it to take its attention off the other Spartan.

Ross rounded the pelican's underside as it unleashed a fusillade of light bullets towards him. He bounded into the cabin, glancing briefly at a still unconscious 'Xiva before looking around. He found what he was seeking and threw open one of the boxes that had been knocked askew in the crash.

Inside were a pair of M57 Pilum rocket launchers. Widely considered to be the spiritual successor of the older 41 Jackhammers, the Pilum was nearly identical in performance, firing high powered HEMP rockets that were dangerous to infantry and aircraft. The Pilum was notably lighter and a cheaper alternative developed by Chalybs Defense to replace the iconic, but aging Misriah product. It had a side fixed magazine, instead of the rotating barrels that loaded the second rocket into the chamber after the first was fired.

"I've got a dozen contacts approaching fast!" Austal shouted, "We got something to take that thing out?"

"Hang on. Brett…get ready to catch!" He ran right back out, cradling one launcher in each hand. As Fowler turned to face him; Pine lobbed one at him. He caught the pass, slipping his hand into the molds and gazed up.

"So bullets don't bother you huh?" He muttered, "How's this for a change?"

The promethean aircraft was still firing in Ross' general direction when a high explosive warhead had appeared almost out of nowhere, striking it on the front of the hull. Sparks jumped out of its large orange belly; no doubt having received some notable damage.

Pine shouldered his own rocket launcher and popped out the small scope display on the side. He was about to acquire target when the hovering vehicle jumped aside; leaving a ghostly trail as the system lost its targeting.

"Shit."

Just as quickly as it left; the promethean VTOL reappeared over the ridge, unleashing another barrage of explosive bolts. Bailey saw it coming in her direction and pressed herself against the side of the pelican to shield Lusana. Their shields flickered as they impacted dangerously close to their position.

"You guys okay?!"

"We're good!" She looked down, "But the boss has lost consciousness!"

"He's probably losing blood," Austal said, "We need to get him out fast!"

Another rocket streaked out of Pine's launcher, racing across the sky right up to the aircraft's belly. He had led it with his smart scope feature, slowly acquiring a lock as it searched for the Spartans again. The warhead hit its mark dead center in the craft's hull, which exploded on its side, knocking it out of the air. It crashed on the cliff above them with a loud screech of metal scraping against rock before it suddenly flashed in a white light. As if it were made of the sand they stood on, it disintegrated before the embers of a remains faded away.

"About time," Fowler said, "We might need this last one!"

More gunfire caught their attention as Austal opened fire on something further down the valley stretch.

"Are these guys prometheans too?"

There were five of them, with what looked like another five coming to join the fight. Like the knights and crawlers and the aircraft they just shot down; they shared the gray metal appearance as the other constructs. Instead, they were more humanoid, with long slender limbs and digitized fingers. They wielded lightrifles that flashed bolts of energy crisscrossing around them.

Austal still had his pistol, popping off rounds that splintered off their armor. Pine joined his side, adding additional fire on one of them. The new promethean stumbled from the barrage of shots before two more sheared off part of its armor. The plating covering the "head" was knocked off, revealing a glowing face that looked both angry and eerie at the same time.

"Inferior humans!" It growled in a robotic droning voice.

"That thing just speak English?"

More gunfire came from their six and they turned to see Bailey, spraying an assault rifle over another trio of the new enemies to keep them at bay.

"Brett!"

"I'm here!" Fowler had jumped on top of the side wing after seeing his comrades in trouble. He hoisted the Pilum up, "Y'all might wanna duck!"

"We'll just move!" Austal said, as he and Pine activated their thrusters to break away from their position. At the same time, the constructs had reached their position.

They only had time to see the rocket coming in their direction get bigger before a thunderous explosion ripped through the entrance, debuting with a cloud of smoke. Nothing was left standing after it cleared out.

Bailey managed to break one of their armors and put it down with her magnum, although the other two were smarter than their compatriot, firing their lightrifles one at a time while the other advanced up the open field.

Without warning, one of them sprinted right past her, bringing its knee up right into Pine's stomach. It happened so fast, that the Spartan had still registered in his mind of what happened before keeling over.

Austal unsheathed one of his knives, flipping into a switchblade style and swung, aiming for the head.

As if it knew he was there; the construct folded inwards before flickering away in a blue light that erratically darted to and fro.

A hand stopped his strike, surprising him that he was about to hit Ross' exposed stomach.

"Shit…sorry."

"Did that thing just teleport?"

"You humans are too slow!" The machine had phased out again and stood a little ways away as if taunting them.

And then from the top, its partner crashed into it in a blur of motion. Both lay dazed at the bottom of the pit.

"Stand back everyone!"

Like an artillery strike, Fowler had been dueling the other promethean when it baited him to the top of the pelican. He managed to throw it off onto the ground, knocking the mocking one aside as well.

The Atlas armor locked into position as he leapt up in midair, rearing a fist back before the thrusters kicked in, amplifying the force downward.

The impact almost shook the entire ground as both hostiles were smashed, splintering shrapnel everywhere and causing both of the prometheans to vanish in their usual light show.

Each Spartan breathed out a sigh of relief when the action finally came to an end.

"The hell were those things?" Bailey asked.

"Prometheans…got to be. They're debuting a new player."

"I doubt that was the last of them too," Pine said to get the group back on track, "We need to get Lusana to safety and everyone out of here before it gets even busier. There's no doubt that the Vahkai and now forerunners are out for us."

"I'll head out already. See if I can find us a vantage point and maybe draw any following parties off your tail." Austal volunteered.

Ross nodded, "If you run into any trouble…ANY, haul your ass back here. I think we had a couple of lotus mines in the hold and they can delay the enemy for a short while."

"Any weapons salvageable?"

"Negative, I checked." Pine cursed, "How are you on pistol?"

"Got three mags left." Austal went over to scoop up one of the lightrifles, "I'll use this instead." He twisted it in his hands, "Shot one in a Warzome sim, so it can't be that hard to figure out."

He grabbed a couple of frag grenades from the crate before heading out, "I'll be on comms and give you regular updates on what's going on."

* * *

As Marcus' Spartan tag got further and further away, Pine, Bailey and Fowler began to form an idea on how to unpin their leader from underneath the pelican.

In case of water landings, each of the aircraft were fitted with a pair of inflatable lifeboats that were activated by microgenerators inside the package. Air pressure was quite firm and explosive, capable of moving quite heavy objects.

However it alone was not going to be able to move the pelican.

"That should be the good," Ross said as Bailey slipped one of the life rafts underneath the hull. They were positioned about a foot away on either side of Lusana, with their arming pins facing outward.

He then joined Fowler on the pelican's other side. Together, they were hooked onto thick durable cords that were attached to the other side of the crash. At the same time, they would pull on the cords while the inflatable rafts could hopefully buy them enough time for Bailey to pull Lusana out.

It was all a theory and there was no AI or scientist to do any calculations. This was just a manifest of ingenuity and hope.

Lusana wasn't going to last much longer.

"I'm ready."

"Good," Pine said, turning to Fowler, "On three….One…Two…Three!"

Both Spartans let out strained cries as they leaned forward, pulling the cords as hard as possible. They went taut, just moving the pelican's hull a fraction of an inch.

Bailey hurried forward, yanking the pins out. They would still need a bit of space to properly inflate, otherwise the force of the air pressure would blow a hole through the side, rendering their attempt completely futile.

Fortunately, it was enough room where they quickly expanded and to her amazement; the pelican began shifting upwards. There was now about four inches of space between Lusana's body and the bottom.

Blake grabbed his arms and pulled, digging her legs into the sand and cursing the half ton armor they all wore. Slowly but surely, his legs began to come out from underneath.

"Is he free?"

"Shit!" Fowler growled, no doubt facing a challenge on his notable strength, "I'm losing my grip!"

Bailey saw the armored boots in the dim light and gave a final heave that cleared him from underneath. "He's clear!"

Almost immediately; the other Spartans stopped pulling and the craft settled back onto the rafts. They were flattened underneath, expanding like pancakes before the pressure was too much and they gave way with a loud pop.

"Oh no," Bailey looked over Lusana's battered body, seeing part of his left leg entirely covered in blood. Part of it was dark from dried bleeds while more continued to bubble out of several sharp looking objects inside the joint. His armor's biofoam injectors must've been destroyed; otherwise the wound would've been sealed.

Fowler and Pine were by her side in an instant.

"Shit…That's bad. He's been hit on his femoral artery," The sniper said, wishing Austal and his medical expertise was here, "He needs to have surgery in the next eight hours otherwise he's going to lose the leg."

"We need to get a message out now."

"Austal? Status?"

"I'm about one and a half klicks down. These new promethean guys are here with the Vahkai and it looks like they're not on the best of terms. I've seen a couple fights break out, but looks sporadic for now. Hopefully it will just tire either of them out, but both parties are headed in your direction. I estimate you've got another fifteen before someone's all over you."

"We got the boss out. He's in very bad shape and we all need evac. He's likely to lose this leg if he doesn't get surgery soon."

"Vahkai have a bigger presence."

"I'd rather deal with them honestly. We still do have 'Xiva…can use him as a bargaining chip."

Pine suddenly stopped, blacking out Austal's reply.

Fowler saw the worried expression through the armor. "What?"

"Bailey, stay with the boss." He drew his sidearm and approached the pelican's hatch.

Although the night had made seeing things more difficult; the Spartan augmentations and their VISR software gave them tools to help alleviate the hindrance of the darkness.

Yet no matter how many times he blinked or adjusted his system; there was no denying it.

A clean slice had destroyed the restraints holding the Vahkai leader. Turz 'Xiva was gone.

* * *

 **Been playing a lot of Halo Wars 2 and I must say; the story is fantastic...not spoiling anything, although it does leave a cliffhanger that opens a door for a possible third game. Blitz is a lot of fun too.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone. You give my writing purpose.**


	22. Stranded III

**Iconium Plateau, Ascella IV, Ascella System**

 **March 19, 2558**

Austal crept to the next outcropping with lightrifle in hand, glancing upwards to see the overflying phantom pass above with a hum of its engines. A rattle of gunfire was heard as it fired one of its secondary plasma cannons out at something unseen. Moments later; he saw another one of those angular promethean gunships follow the Covenant dropship, firing its chin blasters repeatedly as it was raked with white hot bolts from the alien gunner.

Eyes on his motion tracker; he pressed on.

More fighting had broken out between 'Xiva's men and the prometheans as Eon Four had gotten the attention of the latter party and ran away, intentionally heading right for the other faction.

Hopefully, their skirmishes would give them enough time to head to a safer area.

Then the bad news of 'Xiva; their quarry had escaped while the team was distracted with getting Lusana out. Pine said that tracks in the dirt had pointed him in his direction.

So the pararescueman had doubled back to the part that he had already cleared in an attempt to keep tabs on their target. As of now; he had no such luck.

"How hard can a big ass elite be to find out here?"

He came to a section that was particularly narrow, leading to a corner about twenty feet across with the taller rocky sections towering above.

Something caught his eye and he zoomed his armor's scanners onto it.

It was the Vahkai sword; lying down against one of the rocks. There were dings and dents all along its formerly smooth surface that showed its age and the symbols carved into the blade reminded him of old samurai swords he used to see at some of the sushi bars in Cravate.

The slightest sound immediately gave it away.

Turz 'Xiva lunged from his hiding place, using his hammering arms to swing wide. Austal ducked just in time to avoid that blow that probably would've broken a few bones in his body. He used the sangheili's overextension to place a kick right at his stomach. The Vahkai barely flinched from the blow and grabbed Austal by the throat.

Marcus' eyes bulged in complete surprise that his foe wasn't even felled before a strong arm threw him against the wall, losing the forerunner rifle in the process. The hit jarred his bones and he barely exhaled in time to avoid being winded and having to reinflate his lungs.

"How about I make this even? Hmm?" He proposed, casually walking over to the propped sword and handling it as if it were a toy. "It would be an honor to have a Spartan's blood spilled all over it."

"I'll still be one over you," Austal spat back, slowly getting up. Interestingly; 'Xiva allowed him to do so.

"I believe death is indefinitely many times…"

"What?"

'Xiva scoffed, "It matters not to me. You shall pay for the deaths of my ship and men on Requiem. Then that traitor Jul 'Mdama shall suffer too."

As he stepped forward, Austal lunged himself. One of his two sting knives were in hand and he aimed it in a stab right at an armor gap in the armpit.

Striking armor, the knife might as well have been made of plastic against the metal ten times as tough, but he noticed that the Vahkai's armor had many visible spaces in between that exposed some vulnerable points. While it wouldn't outright kill him, a stab in one of those spots was bound to hurt. Since both combatants were moving accurately, he had to move with tact.

Austal had knife fought before, both in sparring and real combat. There was a bit of a thrill to it; standoffish and utter determination was key factors in whether you came out unscathed or even at all.

The heated blade easily punctured the undersuit, sliding into the muscle with a sickening wet sound. 'Xiva visibly shook from the blow, letting out a sharp cry of pain. With them so close together, it limited the sangheili's ability to swing the large sword.

Austal wasted no time from the attack to deliver a hammer strike of his own with his free hand at the alien's neck. He didn't want to give an inch of leeway from the sangheili's much larger sharp weapon. It wasn't an energy sword, but its wicked design and sheer speed that he had seen one swing meant it would have no trouble bisecting him.

'Xiva's free hand popped out after he wrested it from Austal's grasp and his long fingers wrapped themselves around the Spartan's hand. Marcus fought back, straining his eyes and mouth to try and win back over the test of physical strength. While he was a Spartan, capable of beating elites through strength, the Vahkai were no ordinary sangheili and Turz was simply too strong.

The Sting knife was tossed away, landing in the dirt. Austal was too locked in the hold to make a break for it. The Vahkai's armor had many grooves and indentations in its sides, mostly for cosmetic reasons, but it also allowed the Spartan to hook his fingers and swing around to the larger being's back, straddling him like a rider aback of a beast.

'Xiva swung his body wildly in an attempt to thrash the smaller Spartan off and Austal quickly dismounted, jumping up when he saw him getting ready to slam his back into the rock wall.

He landed smoothly on his feet right in front and turned around, drawing his sidearm in one fluid motion.

"Don't move."

To his credit, 'Xiva actually remained still. While it would take nearly an entire clip from his A9 to fully down his shields and pop him with one shot, the threat was still present. Smartly, the sangheili surrendered the sword.

"On your knees."

'Xiva huffed, "I may be unarmed and surrendering, but I will not be taken captive by a human,"

"Shut up."

"If you insist. Why don't you just shoot me instead?"

Austal would've loved nothing more.

Except he was out of bullets. He never claimed to be ammoless and from what the sangheili perceived, he was unaware of an unloaded gun.

Before either could do anything further; the air became split with crisscrossing beams of hardlight bolts. Several of them burned their way through Austal's shields, causing them to flicker even as he slid on the ground, going right behind a man-sized boulder for cover.

'Xiva saw his adversary break for cover just as the promethean group spotted them at the dead end's entrance. He too sprang right into action, scooping up his sword and diving right behind the same rock.

Austal lunged out, right as the Vahkai rounded the corner. The sudden tackle took the both of them right into the open, where the gray constructs quickly acquired their two targets, peppering them with more fire.

Marcus' alarm blared in his helmet and he saw his shielding bar lower to roughly a quarter.

'Xiva threw him off and swung his big blade at a couple projectiles aimed his way. The weapon's smooth surface amazingly deflected the hardlight, glancing off and ricocheting into the rock wall, where it left a small smoldering crater.

One of the prometheans decided to run towards him, swinging a metallic arm rapidly. 'Xiva quickly sidestepped the attack before bringing the sword right back down, cleaving the thing in two.

Austal watched in disbelief at his foe, having to give credit to the speed, style and panache he had given off.

A forerunner weapon was thrown to him. Instinctively, he caught it, recognizing it as a suppressor.

"Make yourself useful," The Vahkai slashed another one right in half, "I would rather not be the only one these things are shooting at."

Austal was not trusting him at all, but the number of prometheans standing between them and the exit was numerous and both were aware that neither was going to make it out alive without the aid of the other.

It had been a little while since he had used a suppressor in a War Games simulation. A fully automatic hardlight rifle that could saturate a wide field of fire with multiple shots. Its fire rate was terrific in close quarters but its effectiveness diminished at longer ranges.

He came out shooting, hoping the weapon would have enough energy to eliminate 'Xiva's shields once this was over. The first target of his exploded and he pivoted to shoot another one. Other prometheans turned from the giant sangheili to the smaller Spartan, having already much difficulty in taking down one.

With a mighty roar, 'Xiva grabbed one of the lanky constructs that had jumped on his back, throwing it over his head and planting the sword right in the robotic being's chest. It let out a synthetic sounding scream before its disintegrating death took hold.

He was in the middle of blasting another one as one of its partners decided to pull an orange spiked ball out from its belt. It tossed it in their direction, leaving a bright trail in its wake.

Both of them had to guess that it was a grenade of some sort when it landed on the ground and expanded to create a sparky field that shimmered in the air.

As he tangoed with his next opponent, he reached down to its waist after smashing the stock of his suppressor into its body and stole one of the grenades.

There was a button on the side, which seemed to be the way it was armed and he underarmed it towards another three that were moving to join the party. They vanished into the field, amber sparks dancing over the ground before winking out in the darkness.

Before long, the two had made work of their attackers and as the opposition wore down; they were already plotting their next move to subdue the other.

'Xiva's came first when Austal saw the blade coming up to swing. He ducked the blow just in time while still fighting the last of the prometheans. In one motion, he grabbed the droid and tossed it towards his attacker while rising back up and squeezing the suppressor's trigger.

The flurry of hardlight bolts pelted both others as 'Xiva pulled the promethean off him and threw it violently to the ground. It shook for a moment before the glow in its head faded and it lay still.

"Hmph," He huffed, "Maybe it does pain me a little bit when I kill you."

He rushed Austal, who had still kept on a stream of bullets before the sword lashed out. It didn't slice the weapon in half, but the tips snagged onto a section of it, ripping it right out of his hands.

"You were lucky I was going to wait until we killed EVERY one of them." Austal reminded as he ducked another blow. Even from the few minutes of endless combat; the sangheili didn't seem fatigued at all.

"The helioskrill who strikes first does so because its need for superiority outweighs its need for patience." He paused, raising the blade back up in a ready stance, "Old sangheili proverb."

"So I'm just dirt huh?"

"A necessary claim yes. Had you and your Spartans not interfered, I would have finally disposed of Jul 'Mdama!"

"So we're after the same guy. You sure you don't want help? I mean, we did work pretty well together."

"Enough talk human."

"Oh come on, what's the harm?"

"The glory for the kill is mine. 'Mdama's head is already at a hefty price and I shall finally be the one to bring him down and restore peace of Sanghelios!"

As he raised a fist in declaration, Austal used the distraction to his advantage. As he had thrown the promethean towards 'Xiva, he pilfered another one of those grenades.

The same one that was flying in the Vahkai's direction.

It exploded right in front of his face, causing the shields to flicker.

Out of fury, 'Xiva spun around, swinging his blade wildly. Marcus jumped back, spraying another volley of suppressor fire before it clicked.

Out of ammo.

He looked up to see the sangheili lunging forward, eyes set on beheading him with nothing else in mind.

"I'm sorry Gabrielle,"

The crack echoed through the tall walls of the valley as 'Xiva's body jerked from an invisible impact.

The shotgun bellowed again, knocking its victim back off balance.

"Austal!" Fowler cried out, rushing over to his friend, "Are you alright brother?"

"Yeah,"

"Good. Cause you're in better shape than him,"

"Where's everyone else?"

"Ross and Blake got Lusana on a makeshift stretcher. We're gonna move while enemy activity is focused on one another to a second extraction point." He looked at 'Xiva. "I see you found our friend. Wish I didn't have to shoot him. My ass is gonna be roasted for that."

"He was about to come after me and I was definitely outmatched. I could've used your help five minutes ago."

A small river of blood flowed just beside their boots as 'Xiva slowly and shakily extended a hand towards his blade, lying just a few feet away. The two slug rounds from the shotgun had blown their way past his shields and ripped through the armor as if it were paper. Blood and bits of bone had been nicked, causing such grievous injury, it was a miracle that he had survived.

Fowler shook his head and gently placed a boot on 'Xiva's hand. "I don't think so bro. You shouldn't have crawled away from your seat." He handed the shotgun to Austal, "All yours."

'Xiva stopped, letting out a guttural growl as he barely moved his eyes up to his soon-to-be-murderers.

To Austal, it was a necessity. Depending on the individual of course, he would normally feel a bit of pity for someone who didn't make it that he had fought alongside. Even as enemies, the two had forged a temporary truce to battle the superior number of prometheans with few weapons of their own.

Without Fowler's intervention, 'Xiva might still be trying to bisect him with his sword, so there was very little remorse for Austal here to execute his former ally; if he could call the Vahkai that.

"Here's an old human proverb for you." He stuck the muzzle into the back of the sangheili's neck. Turz growled and tried to move, but his body seemed to be immobile, so all Marcus got was a stare of defiance, a last act to intimidate his killer.

"Say hello to my little friend,"

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**

 **MWIM**


	23. Stranded IV

**Iconium Plateau, Ascella IV, Ascella System**

 **March 19, 2558**

The long streaks of gold hardlight continued to pepper Eon's position as the couple of metallic forerunner soldiers pressed their attack.

Bailey burst fired her assault rifle, more on the thought of conserving ammunition rather than defeating them outright. The autonomous constructs switched position, crisscrossing up to cover points closer to her.

No grenades, only one rocket for the Pilum launcher and roughly enough ammo in her guns to kill an elite.

Yeah, things were getting stale pretty fast.

"You better hurry up," She called back to Ross Pine, "I don't know how much longer I can hold them off for?"

"They're just a couple robots right?"

"Would you like to work under gunfire?"

Pine's fingers danced through the wiring he was using to stabilize an unconscious Lusana, "You make a good point. I'll work faster."

One of the soldiers made the mistake of remaining in the open for too long, giving her enough time to put two bursts into a cheek in the armor. It shook as the plating took critical damage and exploded into amber ash when another three round burst went through its head.

"Okay, I'm ready!"

"About time," She aimed downrange again to take out the other one. As if right on cue, there was another plethora of promethean constructs that were approaching from the back entrance, "We need to move!"

"Eon Three, what's your position?"

"We're about two and a half klicks in front. I've found Austal."

"And 'Xiva?" Pine asked.

"Dead," Austal said.

"I see. What's the sitrep on exfil?"

" _Vociferous_ is dispatching a pelican escort down to the surface for an emergency evac. We'll probably have only thirty seconds."

"What's the rally point?"

"End of the plateau. She's coming in about ten mikes."

"Then we better hustle."

"Not gonna happen!" Bailey turned around to fire at the fresh group of constructs that had just crested the opening to their position. "We need to move now!"

"Austal, continue on the path to the evac point and get it secured. Fowler, back with me. Bailey needs some help staving off our friends."

"I'm on it," Eon Three said, "En route."

Bailey primed her last frag grenade and tossed it at the entrance. Upon seeing the handheld explosive, the few skinny soldiers at the front dived for cover.

"Ready?" He gripped the makeshift stretcher out of poles and netting from inside the pelican. A lot of extra craftwork under pressure had to be added in order to compensate for the Spartan's increased weight.

She looped her hands through one of the wires, putting around one of the hooks at the pole's end and grabbed the other side. Turning around, she raised her pistol, providing cover fire.

"Go!"

As fast as they could, the two moved the Lusana stretcher down to the other end of the clearing. By now, the prometheans doubled their pursuit, seeing their quarry about to get away.

Fowler had met them just as they went into the next narrow crevice and pumped his shotgun. As the first few crawlers that ran ahead of the soldier pack came into view, he was there to greet them with a hailstorm of buckshot. The soldiers following quickly broke file, moving straight to cover and taking sporadic shots.

Austal came on the comms, "I'm here at the set rally point. There's a couple of these forerunner aircraft loitering around right here. Pegging them for an airstrike."

"Copy that."

Maneuvering through the narrow confines was tricky. As a Spartan that could twist and contort through narrow openings, it was a trivial matter.

Having a huge seven foot stretcher with a half ton Spartan that had to be immobilized was another story. Although neither Bailey nor Pine wanted to cause additional damage to his body, there was no way they were going to get through this without scrapes or bruises.

Fowler kept a bit behind them, spraying any promethean that jumped into the open with his SAW. The few crawlers dashing out of cover were blown apart, while the smarter soldiers stayed back, returning fire. After another long tongue of gunfire, his weapon's bolt clacked open.

"Shit," He cursed, throwing the ammoless weapon down and drawing his sidearm. "I'm out!"

His magnum barked again, overloading another soldier's armor and taking it out.

"Last mag," He called to his cohorts, "Then we'll have to fall back to Austal's position!"

Pine and Bailey continued their hustle, finally getting around a narrow turn. The clearing was a tantalizing twenty steps away.

"Almost there!"

Austal rushed over, grabbing the side of the stretcher.

Just at the same corner, one particularly bold soldier quickly closed the distance, firing a beam weapon that had light projectiles bouncing off the rocky surfaces.

"Aw shit," It was too close to pull out his shotgun, so he lashed out, snagging the barrel of the scattershot and jerking it aside just in time to avoid being cremated.

He gave the robot a savage elbow before smashing the forerunner weapon against its user. It exploded into fine sparks. The energy shotgun was scooped up and he fired the remaining charges, allowing it to ricochet through the narrow confines. A few unlucky crawlers were felled to its particle barrage.

He flipped it open breech style and thumbed in the last few charges he had.

The attacking aircraft up ahead quickly ascended, right before a missile crashed into its hull, creating a deafening explosion.

Fowler heard the familiar engines of a pelican.

"Our ride's here!" Austal shouted, "Fowler, we're out double time!"

Brett looked at the advancing promethean forces, all of which had seemed replaced despite him thinning it out earlier.

Like a blur, the pelican and a pair of broadsword escorts accelerated overhead. The dropship quickly lowered altitude, spinning around and deploying its hatch. Inside, the Spartans could see a paramedic team awaiting them.

"Go! Go! Go!" Pine ushered everyone inside. Austal and Fowler brought up the rear onto the ramp, firing their weapons at the first prometheans that had broken out into the clearing. As the constructs returned fire, the aircraft's ramp slid shut and the pelican quickly rocketed out of the sky.

The team of medics swarmed over Lusana, who had been put on the floor in the middle. Each man or woman…none of them could tell through the thick armor and visored faces nodded calmly and seemed to be conversing on a private channel. They had gotten to work just as he was aboard, using specialized tools from kits to remove parts of the Spartan's MJOLNIR armor.

None of the Spartans paid them much attention, they were all slumped over, exhausted from the harrowing survival ordeal.

"Please tell me we don't have to do anymore of this critiquing of Spartans," Fowler wheezed, shaking his head, "They won't let us hear the end of it."

* * *

 **UNSC _Vociferous_**

Another medical team was awaiting them when _Vociferous_ finally came into view over Ascella's orbit. They quickly, but orderly lifted the limp Spartan on the stretcher and moved him out of the bay towards the infirmary.

Eon wanted to follow, but the insistence of the medics told them that he was going to be immediately whisked into the operating room for surgery. Although they wouldn't be able to see any of the procedures, none of the Spartans refused to go and debrief until they had gotten word of what state their leader and friend was in. The nurses had no choice but to allow them to wait outside.

Just in the waiting room of the infirmary, Eon stood, sat or paced uncomfortably as the dark cloud of Lusana's condition continued to linger over their heads.

An hour passed…then two…at the three and a half mark, Austal decided to head down to the mess hall and bring back four meals. To the surprise of the staff, each Spartan leaned against a tall counter beside the reception desk and ate in silence. Their minds were elsewhere.

Just as the time of four hours of waiting had elapsed, one of the doctors finally came out, calmly explaining the situation for them. Much to their relief, the Spartans dispersed, now reporting several hours late to their debrief.

The news to Lusana and his family was not going to go well.

Ross Pine, fresh out of the showers and in a clean Spartan undersuit, drummed his fingers on the desk as the screen call finally established a connection with the recipient.

The dark-skinned woman was dressed nicely, as if going to an evening out. She had a velvety strapless dress and was currently kneeling down, tending to a young boy that had handsomely groomed hair and a dark suit.

"Yes?" Her face brightened when she saw the familiar person on the other side, "Oh hello Ross!"

"Mrs. Lusana," He smiled back, "How are you and the kids doing today?"

"We're just about to go out for a mom and kids night at a steakhouse. And please, I've told you before, call me Annie. Missus makes me feel old."

"Of course Annie." Pine promised, "Listen, I hate to be the bringer of bad news, but I feel like this is something you have to know."

Annie Lusana wouldn't have married their squad leader if she wasn't capable of handling things like these, "Is he?"

Ross shook his head, "No, he's not dead, but he came pretty close." He sighed, trying to let her know the best of what happened without compromising classified details, "Annie, we were on track to capture an elite warlord and during our extraction, our aircraft was shot down. While most of us escaped rather unscathed; Tony took the worst of it and we found him pinned underneath the wreckage. When we pulled him out, he had received an open fracture to his leg and lost a good amount of blood. He's currently out of critical condition, but still in intensive care."

"Is he awake?"

"I'm afraid not. We're heading back to port soon and when we do, we're sending him home. He's going to need at least a couple months of therapy."

Annie shook her head, "You know this will devastate him."

Ross nodded, "I know. I've been with Tony for years now and I can certainly tell you that he's not going to take it well. But there is some good news; if all goes good during his rehabilitation, then he has the chance to come back into the service by mid to late June at the earliest."

Pine glanced over his shoulder to see Austal and Blake Bailey standing in the doorway. Like him, the younger Spartans had taken off their scuffed armor and tossed away the undersuits for a fresh one.

"So he may need some space and time to heal from the wound. I know you and the boys will be there to support him through every step. It's not going to be easy, but everyone here on Eon is pulling for him."

"Thank you Ross. Really."

He nodded, "Of course Annie. Say hi to the boys for me."

"Will do," She shut off the connection.

Austal stepped forward, rubbing his head, "You wanted to see me sir?"

"Yeah," Due to Lusana's absence, their commander at the Shock Development Group had neglected to issue a replacement in lieu. Ross Pine had led soldiers before as an ODST and was the team's secondary leader. "The Office of Naval Intelligence has decided that it will handle the further matters concerning Turz 'Xiva and the Vahkai from here forward. We've been ordered to return to New Corsica and reassigned for a upcoming operation in a couple of weeks."

"Any details?"

"Nada."

"I see."

Ross Pine turned to Bailey, "Spartan Bailey, I have to admit that while you were on this team, I had my doubts about you." He glanced over at Austal, "We all did."

Bailey held her breath as he removed a tiny box, opening it to reveal a pin of a golden eagle with a thunderbolt and arrows clutched in its claws.

While she recognized it as the pin of the Spartan branch to signify their membership into the elite soldiers, there was a second banner just underneath.

The words read; " _E Sempre L'ora_ "

"It is always the hour," Austal said, "And it's yours."

Ross smiled, "You've earned it. As soon as we get back to New Corsica, we're going to celebrate if she accepts."

"Of course I accept!" She made a fist and grinned right back at them, "You know…I've always wanted to have something like this and you've given it to me. A family."

"Well then let us be the first to welcome you to the Thirty Seventh Special Shock Development Group."

* * *

 **So a couple things; I've changed my name now. Something I can correlate to better than My Wunderwaffle iz missin. Feel free to still call me that if you like.**

 **Second, I've ran into writer's block with this story, but really want to get it off my chest so that I can continue on with future projects and trying not to go two steps ahead of my normal pace.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.**

 **Brav**


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